


His Bloody Rose

by ArtBoiTrash



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game), The Evil Within 2 - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Art, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Discussion, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Evil Within 2, F/M, Fake Character Death, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, One Big Happy Family, Photography, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, TEW - Freeform, Temporary Amnesia, Violence, tew2 - Freeform, the evil within 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 100,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtBoiTrash/pseuds/ArtBoiTrash
Summary: "So, why did you come back to me?"My heart pounded in my throat, watching his eyes glimmer with their normal cruelty, contrasted by the sweetness in his smile. It was a sweetness I knew wasn't real, it wasn't possible for him to empathize or feel anything close to love. But damn him and his smile; I could feel it work it's way into my veins and set fire to them. I could feel my skin melt in my cheeks as the blood flared in them and my heart began to beat faster."I... You couldn't keep me away if you tried, Stefano."I looked away as I heard him begin to step closer. I heard his chuckle ring out as he closed the distance between us. His hands were warm as they wrapped around my back; tense, but gentle. At any moment, I knew the circumstance could turn poor, he could and would hurt me if he chose."Oh, Cara mia. . ." he murmured as his breath rolled over my ear. "Who said I wanted to keep you away?"-Author's note: I'm not really sure where I'm going with this story yet. I hope you like it though. I found myself completely obsessed with a certain artist, so I thought I might channel that into some (not so) healthy story telling.
Relationships: Stefano Valentini/Original Character(s), Stefano Valentini/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 19





	1. The Student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We enter the mind of a college woman, Rose Olian, and her experiences in daily life. Something happens one day; she meets a man that catches her attention where no one else had managed. Does he have a more nefarious intention, or is he simply another artist like her? All artists are a little eccentric, after all.

I tapped furiously at my keyboard on my computer. It's the middle of the night, almost 2:30 in the morning, and I have this stupid project due in the morning.

My head perked up as I heard my coffee maker beep. I sighed and decided a break was a break, at least.

I followed the trailing scent of freshly brewed coffee down the hallway to the kitchen. I felt dreary, and loopy, and ready to sleep. But my stupid procrastinating butt managed to "forget" to write the ending paragraph for an essay due tomorrow morning at 11:00 A.M.

Well, more like two or three paragraphs.

Well, maybe more than a few paragraphs.

Okay, the entire essay.

Fuck college, man.

I glanced at the time on my coffee maker. 2:38 AM. I have less than four hours to complete this essay before I have to leave for school. Then I have a two hour bus ride out to my college, then I have to work until 11, then turn in my half-assed essay. Granted that's if I manage to print it out in time too.

I groaned, rubbing my head as a headache began to develop. I walked to the fridge and grabbed some creamer, hoping to prepare my coffee quickly so I can finish this essay and get at least an hour of sleep to go about my day.

Grabbing a snack out of the fridge, I pour my coffee and make my way back to my room.

Today looks like it'll be hell if I don't play my cards right. . .

-

I walk into the gallery at 8:30 in the morning. I set my stuff down and go about turning on all the lights. I glance around and take in the paintings that have been hanging for the past month. I've seen them all already, not that I've memorized the artist's name or really care. He paints nude women or super imposes their nude photographs onto canvases and paints abstract work around them. Especially after listening to him talk at the opening night, it sounded more as an excuse to portray women's naked bodies for the pleasure of seeing them.

The art department doesn't always select the best artists, in my opinion. But then again, that's my opinion.

I rub my aching head as I recall his story behind one piece hanging thankfully out of sight. A photo of a woman standing with her legs together, hands at her side, staring at the audience, completely nude, blonde hair swept back so her breasts were exposed, no emotion in her face, body cut and pasted onto a picture of an empty street in front of a shop, stained with yellows and browns to give it all a dingy look to it. The story behind that piece was about the artist's family member knowing someone who's kid died of a drug overdose after doing too many drugs on the streets. The piece was supposed to be about how the use of drugs are bad and no one should use them, and the artist chose a young adult woman in front of a shop when the person who died was a late-teens boy that did drugs in an alley.

This most annoying thing to me is every piece in the room was over $1,000 each. Some with a price of $15,000 or more. It irked me because the work didn't feel like there was any soul put into it.

I either don't understand art myself, or the repetitive copy-paste models that look alike don't really shout "artistic statement" to me. Structure, okay. Composition, okay, but often messy. Subject, far too many young adult women with exactly the same body types. Colors, always very muted and very yellow.

I glance at some of the statues the artist did, having taken casts of all his models and rebuilt them using plaster and miscellaneous materials. I frown at the blue statue in the middle of the room, the fact it's a nude adolescent always bothers me whenever I come in here.

I really don't like this artist. Or his work.

"Ahem."

I leaped out of my seat and turn to look towards the door. A man stands there, with a friendly-looking smile on his face, leaning in to look at me despite the glass doors being propped open and being transparent glass.

At first glance, he seemed a little odd. He was dressed very nicely; formal pants and shirt covering his form perfectly, a matching coat left hung open to combat the cold morning outside. His fine clothes perfectly matched his face, a sculpted-looking jaw fit his face like he was a model for a fashion company. He looked like he could be in his thirties, crows feet just beginning to be visible by the eye I could see, but the one to my left - his right eye - was covered by his hair. It was combed straight over his eye, not his entire face. It caught my attention at first, a man in his potential thirties and still hiding his eye behind his bangs. Then I shook it off mentally, it was a college, and early morning college to boot. Literally anything goes.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the office, ma'am."

A European accent danced across my ears and I perked up. My mind initially began to try and discern what kind it was, but I quickly brushed off the impulse and stood up.

"Sorry, I hope you weren't standing there too long." I said as I walked from the glass desk to the door.

"No need to apologize, I had just walked in. I wasn't certain who was hear this early."

I shook my head. "Not many people except for some early morning classes, unfortunately."

"No rest for the artists, to borrow the phrase."

I walked out the door and gestured he follow. As I pass him I notice a very nice smelling cologne, something I'm not used to in an environment of twenties-something college kids.

Across from the gallery entrance was a map of the large art building and all the different forms of art - save dancing - that were crammed in. I pointed to the second floor of the map and pointed to where we were standing.

"You got unlucky where you walked in," I chuckled to myself. "The gallery is literally on the other side of the building, down to the right here, from the office in the top left on the second floor."

"I see." He laughed too. "I'll have to keep that in mind. Which door is it, then?"

"Quite literally the last door across from the stair door. Right next to a giant window overlooking the rest of the campus. If you walk down this hallway you'll see a large staircase that will take you to the second floor. A little further down is the elevator, if you need it."

He smiled at me, wider than his friendly smile before. "Thank you, miss. You are quite a helpful worker."

I laughed a little. "Don't worry, you're not the first person to get lost in the arts building. You're certainly nicer than some I've had come in here."

"Have a good rest of your morning, ma'am." He said as he turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway.

A black leather portfolio caught my eye, tucked under his left arm, arm swinging slightly with him as he walked. His loafers clicked almost delicately along the linoleum, a strangely soothing and cathartic sound after hearing so many squeaking of tennis shoes through the halls. It made me realize how I had never seen anyone as well dressed or as well taken care of as him, walking along the hallways so casually.

I shook my head slightly as I turned to walk into the gallery again. I can't help my perceptiveness sometimes. I'll pick up on the slightest detail, which is helpful in some cases, but not often when I've just met someone - especially someone I doubt I'll meet again.

I sit back down at the glass desk, mind swimming with the details I picked up from that man. I did not need this, not today. People are exhausting, and I don't need more exhaustion.

I pull out my laptop to see if I can review and fix anything else on my paper last minute, hopefully I can get the printer in the office working long enough.

-

I pull the pages off the printer and look over them. Crisp ink, warm and malleable pages, words neat and pristine looking back at me. I glance over what I've written once more, hoping to catch one last mistake or incorrect idea before the dreaded turn in time.

I let out a little breath and organize the pages, patting them all neat and precise in a pile. I set them on the desk carefully as I go to get the stapler I keep in my bag. Whatever is in the essay is in the essay. Everything is now up to the grading gods, i.e. the professor.

I pick up the small pile, tapping it in place to ensure all the pages are neat and perfectly centered together, thumbing through them one last time to ensure they are all in order, then tapping them again to even them out one last time.

I may have quite the issue with making sure everything is as it should be.

Or a neat freak, as some might call me.

The sound of the stapler is loud in the silent room. It reverberates off the cement floor and white walls briefly before silence consumes the room once again. I sigh internally, I do not like loud noises, even when I brace for them.

I sit down at the desk and put my essay along with my stapler in my bag, careful not to rumple the pages or catch the staple and tear anything.

I turn towards my laptop, closing out of the word program, out of the printing window, out of the pdf I was using for research, and the hundred-odd tabs of the same purpose.

I open firefox, having accidentally closed it, and go to YouTube. Maybe watching something will calm my nerves. But not too calm, I still have a class to go to.

I pull out my earbuds and plug them into my computer, scrolling down the recommended feed to see what I might want to watch.

A knock catches my attention.

"'Scuzé?" I hear from the doorway.

I glance up, seeing the man I had helped before standing before me. He no longer wears the smile from before, just a slight smirk stretching towards his ear.

"Forgive me for intruding again. I'm afraid the person I'm meeting with isn't here yet. Would you mind if I wait here?"

"Of course not! That's what the gallery is for, after all. It's meant to let people explore art at their leisure."

He glances towards the art I had been mentally critiquing all month long, and while he still held a smile I could almost see something of a grimace cover his face.

"Ah, thank you." He says, but the kindness has left his voice.

He takes a step inside, then glances around. He walks towards the desk I'm sitting at, holding his portfolio in both hands. The scent of his cologne washes over me as he approaches, and I'm embarrassed to admit how nice it smells. I'm not generally one for artificial scents, but his was oddly calming and comforting.

"Do you mind if I leave this on your desk while I look around?"

"Feel free!" I say, trying to sound enthusiastic and not sleep-deprived. "I know how it feels walking around holding onto portfolios or even large sketch pads with nowhere to set them down."

He laughs slightly, and sets the portfolio down on the desk gently, then turning and walking towards one of the canvases by the door. I feel my curiosity peak, making me want to look inside. I wondered if he's looking to be a teacher here in the arts department. Or maybe he wants to do a gallery show here.

Oh god, please let it be the gallery show. I have had such issues with this current installment, I'm almost certain nothing could be worse than this. Maybe straight up porn would be worse.

"Are these your works?" The mans voice cuts me out of my thoughts. I glance up to see him slightly turned towards me and pointing to a painted canvas with a nude woman lounging in a field of sorts.

"Oh, no, sorry." I bite my tongue, having almost said Oh god, no.

A weird look passes over his face. Almost as if shifting emotions or masks for an audience. Or almost as though relief had passed his face before he corrected himself.

"The artist's statement is on the wall over here," I point to a hanging piece of foam with a printed statement from the artist, "if you want to learn more about the artist."

The man smiles politely and nods. "Thank you, I will certainly get to that soon."

I sit back in my chair, turning back to my computer. I put in my earbuds, selecting a video I've watched a few times before, and just tried to keep my eyes open. I grab at my coffee thermos and sip gingerly from it. This much coffee was bound to make me sick, but I can't wait until I can go home and pass out for 12 or more straight hours.

The well-dressed man made his way around the room slowly, as though trying to study and absorb all of the pieces. I saw him in my peripheral either tucking his knuckles under his chin and supporting the arm with his other hand, or walking with his hands behind his back. It was obvious he took art and its imagery very seriously.

I would catch him glancing at me from time to time, eyes focusing on me briefly, but I couldn't discern - or care - if he was gauging whether to steal or deface the work. I made sure he knew I was keeping an eye on him; difficult not to when the desk has a vantage point of the whole small gallery.

He finally made his way to the piece I disliked most, and then to the artist statement. He looked over it carefully, reading each sentence thoroughly. He stood there, hands resting behind his back, almost motionless.

When I glanced at him, the smile he had been wearing had disappeared. A taught line on his lips showed what was either his fight against a frown or a grimace.

He hummed slightly, turning to the desk and putting his hand in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, unlocking the phone and fiddling with it for a moment. Then he frowned slightly.

"What are your thoughts on the gallery?" He asked coolly, keeping his even and pleasant tone.

"My thoughts?" I pulled my earbuds out and paused my video.

"Yes. I'm curious how this gallery is being received." He pulled up a chair by the table. "Even if you are simply the attendant, you must have your thoughts on this work."

"I suppose it's all right." I tried to match his inflection, failing horribly.

"Oh? Simply all right?" He pressed, smoothing his gloved hands over his portfolio, making me itch to see what was inside again.

"Well, the men seem to like it, for obvious reasons. The women tend to have issues with it for the same reason."

"And you?"

"I... it's generally not my favorite." I look over to the statues in the room. "While I understand each artist has their niche and style, this particular art I'm simply not fond of. The meanings behind the pieces don't resonate or come across, and the color palettes are just not my preferences."

He leaned forward as he listened, crossing one of his legs over the other as he got comfortable.

"Personally the pieces don't generally strike me as story telling or having messages behind them. They seem too... repetitive? Each picture is different, but the formula is exactly the same. Even the compositions seem similar each time."

A smile crossed the mans lips as he looked at me intently.

"Oh, excuse me." I put my fingertips over my mouth and forced a quiet giggle. "I didn't mean to ramble. I'm rather passionate about art. I have issues with too much repetition from artists sometimes, but it's not up to me to discern what's art or not. That's what makes things art, of course."

The man leaned onto the desk, elbow resting gently on it and arm crossed behind his portfolio. His polite smile was back, though something shimmered behind his grey-green eyes. His smile tugged to one side, showing the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes.

"Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself yet." He held out his hand across the table.

I extended my right hand, his leather glove firmly grasping my hand and shaking it. "I'm Rose. Rose Olian."

"I'm Stefano." He said smoothly, a gleam coming to his eye. "Stefano Valentini."


	2. The Artbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange man, Stefano, sits across the table from Rose, engaging in small discussion and finding common ground in each other's interests. His charming gait falters when she surprises him and takes interest in their conversation.

Stefano held onto my hand for a moment with a smile on his face. It strangely felt like I had signed some sort of pact with this man.

He let go of my hand, pulling his portfolio towards himself in one movement.

"What does your ideal artwork look like, then?" He asked.

"My ideal artwork?" I bit my lip, quickly trying to wrack my sleep-deprived brain for an answer. "That's an almost impossible question to answer. I suppose. . ."

He looked towards me expectantly.

"I'm not sure. I generally don't know what I like unless I see it. I know I like the more... erm, surreal paintings. Not like Dahli or the dreamlike landscapes. Maybe more... Frida Kahlo-esque."

"I see." He chuckled as though he had a queue of reactions waiting to be used. "The debate for Kahlo's style is always an intriguing one. But I believe I know what kind of image you are saying."

"Well, what about you? What's your ideal vision of the arts?"

He perked up, as if having been waiting for that question forever. "My tastes are rather more... obscure."

He chuckled to himself, pulling the portfolio to him and grabbing the zipper. He slowly unzipped the book, making my curiosity wonder what type of art lay inside.

"What I would like to see be appreciated is what I create. My vision for art is often... Misunderstood by those that can not understand."

The portfolio gloriously flipped open, revealing neat piles of small pictures encased in clear plastic sheets. He spun the book around and slid it towards me.

"You see, I came out of a specific experience in my life that completely changed how I see the world. It granted me a way to see the world and it's occupants in a different lighting."

I looked on the first sheet of the book, realizing it was photographs, small pictures dedicated to a single sheet each. I stared at the first one; a man in what appeared to be a military uniform being blown limb from limb as an explosion tore through the frame. I found myself staring at each of the details. The blurred movement of the explosion, the man whose leg was completely missing from his body, the leg itself perfectly balancing the photograph in another place.

I gasped quietly, noticing a singular piece of shrapnel wasn't blurred. It was almost still, just fuzzy. I realized it was coming towards the camera that had captured it.

"Having lived through that moment, I saw something more beautiful than the life around me. I had to record what we cannot see."

I turned another page, seeing two black and white photos of a slit neck and wide-open eyes. The next page had close-ups on body parts and rotten, sliced flesh.

Turning the page I saw more images of dead bodies, and a bloodied woman's face, pale and an empty expression staring back at me.

"Beautiful, is it not?"

I sprung up, startled. Stefano was standing behind me, leaning slightly over my chair and staring down at his own work.

"S-sorry, I didn't realize you had moved." I blurted out.

He smiled at me, warm and inviting. Something told me it wasn't genuine, just his way of trying to calm me from my fright.

"Forgive me for enjoying your fear. I find it quite lovely to observe the emotions rarely captured and praised. Feelings are very human, but it is rare that they are captured and shown to many people."

I nodded, and he shifted past me, pulling the chair closer to mine. He sat and hovered over the desk, admiring the photographs.

"These are just proofs, of course. My actual work is much bigger and broader than this."

He turned one of the pages for me as I glanced over at him. He smiled differently than when I first saw him.

"Ah, but I wasn't satisfied in the beauty of others. No, I had to create my own. Within a reasonable degree of harm, of course." He laughed to himself.

I glanced down, viewing a headless woman on a swing in a blue dress. I could see a bag dripping from the top of the image, as though in motion, implying it had just been pulled off. There were what appeared to be fairy wings made of blood, extending from the headless torso sitting gently on the swing. The composition and lighting were dare I say perfect. The blue contrasted the red wonderfully, forcing the viewer to look and observe.

I blinked, recognizing immediately the pattern repeating itself within the wings. Each wing was the same intricate blood design, just scaled differently to fit each spot.

"Is this...?"

"Photoshopped? No. I'm quite proud to say that." His chest puffed up slightly as he smiled. "I have learned plenty of skills in my time as a photographer. Many of what you see are several scenes assembled together with development magic."

"Wow..." I murmured as I turned back.

Stefano flinched as I said that. His head turned from the photograph to me. Then he sat up and seemed to compose himself.

I flipped another page, seeing a bloodied hand holding a rose, also bloodied. It reminded me of the illustrations in "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" from the dark blood looking like ink.

A small inscription at the bottom read "Innocent Gift" in elegant cursive. I glanced at the image, then stared at it. It felt... as if the title resonates with it perfectly. The only thing to see was in fact the rose and the arm, so delicate and charming. There was a story behind it, almost like a fairy tale, and I almost wanted to ask what it was.

"This picture is..." I murmured.

A phone chimed quietly. Stefano reached into his left pocket and pulled out his phone. He stood up and walked away slightly, tapping on the screen. I looked down at the picture again before turning the page.

This image was a hand mostly out of frame, laying gently along hardwood floors, almost pointing to a tattered rose laying opposite of the hand. It looked delicate, almost, as though it had been less staged than the others in the portfolio. I took in the blood spatter and rose petals laying across the image.

Stefano's voice brought me out of my trance with the picture. His pleasant voice had turned hard, and he started saying something in a foreign language. Whatever it was, it was rather obvious something had made him pissed off.

He composed himself once again, then turned to me. He was now frowning as he regarded me looking at his photographs again.

"Excuse me, it seems my meeting has fallen through." He sat back down in his chair by the desk, as though he was instantly fatigued. "If you don't mind, I would like to gather my work and just leave."

I blinked. "Oh, were you meeting with the gallery director?"

"The head of the art department and the gallery director to go over my work, to showcase my own gallery here." He gestured to the room around him, annoyance filling his tone. "Though, from what I've seen, I doubt my passions would fit into this gallery."

"It would certainly be better than this artist." I mumbled under my breath.

Stefano looked at me, his visible eyebrow raised and eye open rather wide. " _'Scuz_ é?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize I said that out loud." I put a hand over my mouth. "It's just, in comparison... Well, your work just shows a lot of love for the technique and care for what you're trying to portray. I can't help but feel the artist here," I lift a hand and wave it towards the room, "is just trying to replicate what he thinks others want. Or at the very least just objectifies women to showcase for his and others pleasure."

I turn back to the portfolio before me and flip back a page to _Innocent Gift._ I let my index finger run along the plastic, tracing the edge of the arm so as not to obstruct the rest of the picture.

"While it looks like you also use the female figure for your work, you do it in such... Well, it has a more elegant feel to the whole image. It's more of a celebration to the female figure, not just a sexual or objectifying use of it."

I look up at Stefano and realized he was staring at me.

"Oh sorry, I was rambling again."

"No. Do not apologize. I haven't heard an opinion like that about my work yet." A smile crossed his face slowly. "It often goes in another direction, not many art critics understand my vision."

He turns away, smile still evident on his face.

"Your work reminds me of this photographer I've seen before..." I said lowly.

"Oh? Who is that?"

I open my mouth to speak, but I can't remember the name. "I... can't remember... Oh, hold on."

Turning to my laptop, I wake it from its sleep mode and open a new tab on my browser. I tap my fingers on the table as I think briefly. Then I begin to type out something via the Google search bar.

"I can... Show you, since I remember what she's famous for, but not her name."

The search finished and showed my search for "body farm photographer." I clicked on the image tab and watched as it loaded gruesome bodies slowly decomposing. Some were close images of the faces, some were full body shots.

"Sally Mann," I said, reading one of the title cards, "her name's Sally Mann. I keep forgetting..."

Stefano moved his chair closer to mine, leaning towards the computer screen. I shifted the computer to him so he could use it. He stared at the screen, then pulled off his left glove to use the trackpad on the base of the computer. I watched as he clicked in to various images, taking his time to absorb and view each one.

"Wonderful. . ." He muttered quietly. "I've never seen another's work like this."

Several minutes go by as he carefully scrolls through the pictures. I smile to myself, glad that I could show someone another artist they might like. The concentration on his face as he stares at each image, visible eye darting around the picture as he hunts for every detail available to him.

"Is this an older photographer?" He finally says, sitting back upright in his seat.

"No, I don't think so." I shake my head slightly. "She's still uploading images and proofs to her website, but I think she's moved on to other pictures. Landscapes of her home state, I think, trying to capture old civil war battlegrounds."

He nodded slightly, eyes turning to the screen again. His smile never faltered. Then he chuckled lowly.

"While this wasn't how I expected today to go, it has turned out rather enlightening." He pulled his portfolio towards himself, carefully shutting it and zipping it closed. "I will have to look into miss Mann's work some more. But for now, I'm afraid I have to go. I must create something, to capture a new wondrous image I have in my mind."

I feel myself smile as a flighty warm feeling passes through me. I stand with him, though knowing that isn't really necessary. He chuckles again, his smile grafted almost permanently onto his face. He holds out his left hand, still without the glove, and I hesitantly place my left hand in his. His hand is warm, and it branches through my arm as he closes his grip and brings it closer to himself.

"Perhaps today went wrong for good reason." He chuckles, pulling my hand up to his face. He presses his lips to my knuckles, planting a gentle kiss upon them. I feel my face flare up and a lump develop in my throat.

His lips linger on my hand, eye closed, face seemingly content. Then a smile crosses his face and he pulls away.

"I can only hope that you are like a charm of luck." He chuckles. "Perhaps we will find each other once again, when I need someone to brighten my day. Until then, I wish you well, _bella Rosa._ "

I swallow as I stare at the man before me. He straightens up, releasing my hand and letting it fall to my side, then grabbing his glove and portfolio off the desk. He turns around and begins to walk away. His shoes make their way down the hall, clicking gently against the linoleum and making their way out of the building.

I fell back into my chair, feeling my face aflame. The lingering warmth from his hand dissipated and left it feeling cold. I work hard to swallow the lump in my throat and quench the flutter in my stomach.

 _C'mon, be logical._ I thought to myself, trying to focus on my computer as I turned it back to myself. _He's_ _just_ _a charmer. He's probably sweet to everyone, you don't need to get riled up because some well-dressed man_ _with_ _an accent took a passing interest in you._

I sighed. Yeah, I know I'm probably right. That's how you get your heart broken early in life. Letting someone who knows how they make people feel playing you like a puppet for their own use.

I shudder, trying to get the scent of his cologne out of my head, and the soft feel of his lips against my hand coupled with the feel of his warm breath ghosting over my skin to stop replaying in my memories.

I swallow and just try to pay attention to the video I was watching, but I couldn't help my attention being pulled elsewhere. No matter how much I mentally chanted that I need to focus on my college life, my studies came first, and he likely won't remember me when he interacts with the next woman he meets.

The glimmer in his eye when it opened from kissing my hand danced in my head. The way it slowly raised up and met mine, as though it glowed through the shadow cast by the lighting in the room. The green and silver looking aflame and liquid, piercing through me as he stared. His face holding stoic, but his eye reading with some form of emotion I had yet to understand.

I shook my head. I need to get that man out of my head. I shivered, realizing I was subconsciously holding tight to the hand he had kissed. I looked down, then let go and forced both into my lap.

I still have less than an hour until my class. I hope I don't have to do anything else today. I'm likely to crash from this adrenaline rush shortly, but apparently a good way to wake up is to have a striking European man come and flash his warm smile around the room.

I shivered again, grabbing my jacket and pulling it on. I felt embarrassed for feeling like I needed to get warm, but hopefully I can help myself forget this event eventually.

I turn on another video to try and distract from the buzzing sound of my own thoughts bouncing within my head.


	3. Working Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical day from the perspective of Rose Olian, working the gallery before going to class. She comes across a disheartening news story and tries to help some gallery patrons, then accidentally runs into a certain Italian artist who wants to show her his new work.

Days passed since I had met Stefano on my Wednesday shift; the weekend came and let me move through the motions of daily life. I never ended up looking up his name. While I was curious, I didn't need to go snooping around for information on a stranger.

I sat quietly in the gallery the following Monday, scrolling through my Facebook page, absentmindedly wondering about some more distant friends that I didn't interact with online. Everything, as far as I was aware, was going smoothly in my classes, and I didn't have anything too pressing for the next few weeks. Pet pictures and photos of family members went through my feed interspersed with articles about politics and science breakthroughs.

A new article posted a few hours ago came across my dash, linked to a statement from the Krimson City's police department about an urgent matter. The headline read "Mutilated Woman's Body Found Over the Weekend - Search for Identity Matches Missing Woman from Krimson City" and continued with an introduction to the article.

I clicked on the link and began to scroll through the story, reading about how the body was missing its arms and head, rendering it as barely more than a torso. A crime scene photo, blurred for those who didn't want to see it, showed her crumpled frame laying in a small pool of blood in an alleyway once the filter was removed. There was barely any blood left, showing that the majority of the wounds and bloodletting occurred elsewhere.

"Due to some defensive wounds, police are saying this person was alive while they were being dismembered. Identity of body suspected to be Genevieve Wavers, a young woman pursuing an acting and modeling career. She was last seen in a bar downtown before disappearing six days ago. The police chief will be making a statement today about the series of murders that have been occurring within our beloved town."

I frown slightly as I continue scrolling, discussing how the family of the woman is reacting to the news, how it hasn't been completely confirmed until the DNA testing comes back conclusive, and discussion of how similar murders have been ongoing within the city.

A serial murderer is an interesting idea to study in terms of true crime interests, but it doesn't actually feel fun when there's a real threat living in your city and walking around as though they are a real person.

I shut out of the tab on my phone. That's enough internet for right now, I don't need to become wildly paranoid. So far I think I'm safe from the supposed serial killer, or whoever is killing and dismembering young women in Krimson. Sure I'm a young woman too, but I doubt I'm the ideal victim for them.

I guess I wouldn't really know that, though.

A student walked into the gallery, meandering in slowly. I sat down my phone, sitting attentive to make sure they knew I was there to answer any questions they might have. The waved slightly at me, acknowledging me, then started to walk around the exhibit.

I turned to my sketchbook, staring at the sketch I had been working on before becoming frustrated and turning to my phone for entertainment. I frowned, then picked up my block eraser and began to erase the entire thing. I didn't like how it was turning out, and I knew I would never come back to it, so might as well get rid of it now before it becomes a mental burden to the book and an embarrassment to me.

The student walked towards the desk, causing me to look up at him. He was a student I was familiar with, as he had been in several of my art classes.

"Hey, it's nice to see you again!" He said with a smile, polite as he usually was.

I nodded towards him. "Always good to see you." I made a mental note that I didn't know or remember his name.

"Do you know what this piece is called?" he held up his phone, showing a photograph of a piece from the last gallery installment. "I meant to get it before it came down, but I wasn't able to remember it, and I've asked around my class that needs the paper, but no one knows what it's called."

Someone else walked in, but I didn't pay attention to them while I was preoccupied with the student in front of me. I knew a few teachers in the art department had set a short paper to talk free form about a piece of their selection. A few other students from other classes have come in with the same question, but I'm normally not helpful. Especially now since this installment has been up for nearly a month. I stared at the photo for a moment, recognizing the image but not remembering the name, then shrugged.

"Sorry, I didn't catch most of the names from the last rotation." I said, leaning back in my seat. "I would recommend talking to your teacher and asking if you could do a paper on one of the pieces from this one."

"Oh, alright..." His voice trailed off, turning his phone to himself to look at the photograph again and scratching his neck.

I smiled halfheartedly, turning my attention the other patron. The student was a woman with long brown hair lingering close to the desk I was sitting at, obviously waiting for my attention. The man I was talking to turned and began to wander around the room to look at the pieces again.

The girl walked to my desk. "Uhm, sorry, but do you have any of the last paintings from the last gallery?"

I shook my head. "Only one or two in the backroom since they were sold, but all the name plates are in a pile in a tray mixed with other rotations."

"Okay. . ." her voice hesitated, then she pulled out her phone from her bag and scrolled through it. "Do you know the name of this one?"

She held out her phone with a photograph from the last installment. It was a different piece from what the other student had asked me to remember, but I was still at a loss for the names. I kept my polite smile but sighed internally. Props to her for not eavesdropping on my last conversation. Working in the gallery is fun, but when someone puts off their paper until a month after their reference is pulled off the walls, I tend to feel like it's not worth it.

"Sorry, no." I said. "I don't know the name. If you need it for a paper, I'd recommend asking your teacher if you can change the subject of the paper."

She nods, then puts her phone away, frowning as though she was embarrassed. "Well, thank you anyway."

She walked out of the gallery, hung head a little. I could tell the poor girl was severely anxious. I slid my mouth to the side. I mentally apologized again, though knowing it wasn't my fault, I felt bad that so many people didn't realize that the gallery attendants weren't completely infallible. If I knew the names of each piece from the last artist, I would certainly help the people that came in and asked. However, for now each of the students were on their own until I can get photographic memory like the phones that didn't capture the names of the pieces the students are trying to reference.

I continue trying to work with a sketch on the now blank page laying open in my sketchbook. I play with the lines, trying to turn light scribbles into a full piece, starting over and trying to use the page as a character sheet or as a thumbnail experiment page for paintings. However, I don't seem to be able to make anything work, and I eventually give up on the now messy and greyed page. Perhaps today just isn't my day to continue my drawings.

I sigh and pick up my phone again. I open Facebook again, scrolling through my feed. I come across some more articles discussing the current climate of fear in Krimson, more talks about who might be the serial killer running amongst the citizens. Comments sections full of "Anyone could have done this, we aren't being told anything by the police" and "These officials don't know how to do their jobs, no wonder multiple serial killers have lived here in the past decade."

I frown and try not to think about the current state of the city. Too many police went missing in one of the last incidents in Krimson, so I'm not surprised if they're understaffed or waiting for new personnel. When there aren't as many people to keep the criminals in check, it seems the criminals will run rampant like an invasive species.

Someone walked into the gallery, causing me to look up. It was my coworker, Angela, come to take my place since my shift was now over. I smiled at her and began to pick up my things. We began to make conversation and talked quietly as I stood to leave the gallery. We made jokes about shared experiences from working the gallery, discussing family life and bonding over mutual things.

Finally, I turned and began to leave for my class. I was sure I had wasted enough time chatting, but when I made connections with people I couldn't help investing whatever time was available to be with them. It was exhausting sometimes, but worth it when I can make a strong connection with someone.

Walking out the door from the gallery, I waved and said "see you" to Angela. I walked a few paces, then walked into something. I backed up, stumbling, trying to regain my balance.

I fell as I failed to regain my composure, stumbling backwards over my own feet. The concrete flooring was cold and unflinching, rather painful as my leg bent roughly underneath me. I heard someone's voice cry out with a loud slamming into the ground that wasn't me. It dawned on me that I had run into a person and knocked them over.

I looked over to the person saying "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

A man with a single eye obscured by his bangs lay in front of me on the floor, now sitting up and staring at me. It was Stefano, and I could see his portfolio from last time laying across the floor where he had dropped it. His face was twisted in rage, a taught frown on his face and visible eyebrow turned down, casting a dark shadow over his eye. Then his face softened, and he began to get up.

"Well, Miss Rose, I didn't expect to see you again today." He spoke through a tense voice, masking almost pure rage coming through as he spoke. He reached for his portfolio as he stood, then brushed his off, patting down some of the dirt his black suit picked up while on the floor. The top button was undone on his pristine shirt collar, the black coat protecting the pure white fabric from a smudge of dirt across his side.

I hurriedly got up, grabbing my book bag, forgetting that I was in a rush to get to my next class. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't see you while I was walking."

"Nor did I see you." He said, no longer speaking with an enraged tone. "Though, I would recommend you watch where you are going next time. I doubt few would be as forgiving as me."

I blinked, taken aback from his comment.

His face shifted, then a smile spread across his lips. He lifted his portfolio, then gestured me to follow him. I walked with him as he sat down on a bench across the hall from where I had been standing.

"You are responsible for one of my newest creations, _bella_." he chuckled quietly as I sat down next to him. "After you had shown me those photos from Miss Sally Mann, I was struck with such inspiration that I had to create something new."

I didn't notice how low he was speaking at first. He opened his leather portfolio, the echo of the zipper bouncing through the hall.

"You developed a new photograph, or. . ."

"I created several, though I am only carrying the best with me in this."

He flipped gently through the transparent folders holding his pictures, as though checking to make sure none were damaged from falling. Once he got closer to the ending, he turned the portfolio to me and set it on my lap. Two pictures looked back at me, one of an eye buried under dozens of hands, staring out at the viewer. I stared at it for a moment, seeing the crispness of the shadows meeting and contrasting with the skin tones of the hands and what was visible of the face. The eye shone in terror it seemed, bloodshot, and almost begging to be saved from the inevitable fate of being touched.

A low rumble of laughter came from the man sitting next to me. "I admire your appreciation, but I was speaking about this one." His gloved hand guided me to the opposite page and tapped it slightly.

It was a woman with missing limbs and head dislocated from her body, face obscured by roses and tree leaves. She was wearing a red dress that turned into a river at her feet, simulating a river of blood flowing through a forest. Large trees overlapped and faded into the background, implying that the focus of the woman was that she was part of a waterfall, leaning back in a near bliss at bringing life to the land around her despite her obvious death.

I felt my heart pound, something about the way the girl stood reminded me of the police report and crime photo I had seen earlier. I blinked and shook my head.

"What are your thoughts?" Stefano shattered my train of thought, a smile crossing his face as I looked up at him. "You are the first. To see this newest work of mine."

I turned back to it, taking in the composition of this photograph, ignoring the gnawing thoughts in the back of my head. I stared, taking in the sharp contrast colors, scarlet dress and crimson flowing liquid clashing like a kiss with the warm brown of the trees and cool leaves. I realized there was a ripple of wind, pushing the dress and leaves in movement swaying to the left of the picture.

"It's. . ." my voice trailed off, not sure how to describe the strange feeling it was evoking in me. "Wonderful."

Silence ensued next to me. I saw his face change in my peripheral vision. I could have sworn his smile had fallen to a frown or a neutral expression. I didn't look at him, but kept staring to absorb each detail.

"It's a little busy with all the details in the bark," I traced the weathered trees with all the heavy lines pointing up and down in near parallel lines. "But the shading, and the lighting, and the contrast... It fits the image perfectly. The leaves by her face are so well contrasted to her dress, and her skin stands out perfectly with the trees."

"Perfectly. . ." he whispered.

I looked up at Stefano, seeing he was staring at me. His gaze was intense and almost distant. He wasn't lost in his thoughts, but his eyes were shifting around me as though seeing something. I turned around to see what he was looking at.

Instantly a hand grabbed my chin, pulling my face back around. Stefano's hand had pulled me back around to stare at him, grip firm and unrelenting. He had leaned forward to grab me, and his concentration was partially lost. Soon the intense gaze resumed and looked around my face and passed me. The cool leather shaping my chin didn't leave, holding me in place as he continued to gaze at me. A slight smirk appeared on his lips, causing me to notice, then turn my own gaze away in embarrassment. I could see his green eye widening, in mania or excitement I wasn't sure.

We sat there like that as people passed us, some I noticed were staring since we were both sitting like statues on the bench. I realized a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. Most people caused an uncomfortable feeling when they touched me, like cactus needles rubbing underneath my skin. However, this wasn't being triggered while Stefano held my head in place. I could smell his cologne again more faintly this time and the scent of a photography lab, causing a memory to surface from when I took a traditional photography class for my degree.

Finally he let go of me and I backed up. My back protested as I sat up, realizing he had been pulling me slowly towards him. It popped loudly as I sat straight, pulling away from his figure to grab my bag again.

"Excuse me for that, a new image came to my mind and I had to form it properly." He laughed it off slightly.

I looked down at my watch out of habit, then realized I was several minutes late to my first morning class. I grasped the portfolio, still laying in my lap, and handed it to Stefano who had begun to stand up.

"I'm so sorry, I need to leave. I'm late for my class, and I--"

A hand grabbed mine, pulling me up. The strength of the pull made me land awkwardly into the chest of the man who had grabbed me. I looked up into Stefano's eye, a neutral look on his face, but a strange glint in his eye. He frowned, and his eyes narrowed.

"Well, I too am late, _bella Rosa_ ," he said while frowning. "I was on my way to a meeting when you ran into me."

His tone implied he hadn't stopped me again and chose to show me his pictures a few minutes ago.

"But, I shall forgive you," he said quietly as he leaned down. "If only you live up to your charm from the first time we met."

He pressed his lips against my forehead, a hand pressing flat against the back of my head. They were warm and soft against my skin. My eyes fluttered closed, making my other senses more noticeable. I was aware of a warmth in my stomach, something odd and new, like a fire or a sick nauseous feeling spreading through me. I swallowed as a lump formed in my throat. His lips against my forehead were gentle, and they lingered probably a little longer than was socially acceptable. His fingertips twitched against my skull, then pulled away. His lips slid up my forehead as he pulled away, lifting his head. My eyes fluttered back open, still not sure this had really happened.

"Hopefully you are still my good luck charm, _bella Rosa_." Stefano chuckled, smile stretching to one side of his face. He backed away a little, tucking his portfolio under his left arm. "Perhaps we will meet again, and if we have enough time you may model for me to complete the new image flourishing in my mind."

He walked past me slowly, and I turned with him as he walked away. He turned back and glanced at me with a smile still on his face.

I stood, frozen, as I watched him walk away and disappear around the corner. It took me several moments to recollect myself. I came back to the present as I blinked several times. I ignored the odd ache and burn in my stomach, recollecting my thoughts. I shook my head as I made sure I had all my things and began walking to my class. I couldn't care about being late now, my thoughts more scrambling about a near stranger kissing me on the head.

I tried to push down the thoughts and emotions that continued to surface as I walked into my class. I ignored the people that turned and looked at me as I opened the door and made my way through the back of the room.

My mind wouldn't process whatever was the topic of class that day. I pulled out my sketchbook and eventually started drawing on a new page, just trying to push my mind away from the look in his eyes as he had stared at me.


	4. Guest Speaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alight with embarrassment, Rose goes through the motions of the day, taking notes as Officer Phi speaks in her Criminology class. When the conversation shifts, she can't help but take notice.

I walked into my second class of the day, still shaken from the morning's proceedings. Stefano had been nothing but kind and respectful to me for the two times I had spoken with him. Questions fluttered around in my head all day, especially why an absolute stranger felt the need to kiss me on the head.

Why would he show me his work when I was just a gallery attendant? Why would he be so kind to me after the first impression I seemed to make was "rude observer" and "clumsy woman."

I set all my things down as I took my usual seat, pulling out my laptop to take notes. My muscle memory was ingrained enough I could probably take notes without thinking too much. Hopefully at all, hopefully distracting myself from literally anything.

People chatting filled the room until the teacher walked to the front. The voices died down and waited for her to speak, recognizing that as the sign that class was going to begin. I rubbed my temple as I felt a headache coming on, pulling out my second coffee thermos to try and stay awake through this class.

I opened my laptop and typed in the password, opening a webpage to get to my documents saved in a cloud. The teacher began speaking as a new page loaded, making glance up as I typed out the date and waited for the information.

"Well, I hope everyone is having a good Monday." said the teacher as she usually did every Monday.

The class rippled with some quiet laughter. I smiled without joining in. I didn't feel like emoting right now, I wasn't in the right mindset for that.

"Like I said last time, we have a guest speaker today. It's the Chief Officer from Krimson City's police department."

The class half-hardheartedly clapped as the police officer made his way to the front of the class, the professor making her way to the back of the classroom to observe. He smiled and raised his hand, causing everyone to become silent again.

"Hello, everyone, thank you." he began, turning to the computer and inserting a flash drive. When a window opened, he opened a PowerPoint and turned it to full screen.

I began typing along with the officer as he spoke, keeping my mind on my hands on the keyboard. _"Criminology class, guest lecture, name..."_

"I am Officer Phi," said the officer as he walked to the side of the presentation, holding the remote to the projector. "I am the chief at the KCPD, and I'm sure I've met or will meet all of you eventually."

The class laughed again.

"Today, I've been asked to talk about the mentality of most criminals that we come across in this profession." The slide changed as he talked, a picture of several drugs laying on a table near a ruler after being seized appearing.

"Most of what we deal with are drug users, homeless, and burglars or muggings." He turned with a knowing smile to the class. "Who can tell me the difference between a burglar and a robbery?"

A few people raised their hands. He selected one of the students across the aisle from me, "A robber takes something from a victim that's present, and a burglar doesn't need or doesn't have a victim present while the crime is being committed."

"Absolutely correct." Officer Phi switched the slide, now presenting a photocopied sheet from a book. "For this class, let's go over the personality traits of some of these people. Or, more importantly, what leads these individuals to commit these crimes?"

I typed out the notes along with the slides, listening as the officer monologued with his slides and occasionally asking questions to keep the class engaged. I listened and tried to commit it to memory, since some of what he was saying I knew would be on the next test. I wondered slightly if the teacher had encouraged him to make his presentation about certain things to relate his lecture to real life. I typed the traits of common criminals, desperate situations tend to lead to robbing, depression or helplessness leads to substance abuse, and several other things that were being highlighted.

As we were moving on from common traits that make someone a common criminal, someone raised their hands.

"Yes, do you have a question?" Officer Phi asked as he pointed at them.

"Sorry, sir, since this is a little off topic, but could you tell us about the traits that make a serial killer?"

The room went silent. The atmosphere felt tense and the question hung in the air. No one seemed to move, as though someone had hit a pause button on the scene.

Officer Phi eventually sighed, then walked to the teacher's desk and sat down on an open spot in front of the computer. He still paused, and I could see him looking at the teacher in the back of the room. Eventually he straightened up and spoke again.

"I suppose I should have prepared for this question," he laughed slightly. "Unfortunately we don't have enough information on this serial killer's habits just yet. However, there are a few things that we can say about this one."

"We haven't covered serial killers just yet," the teacher spoke up from the back of the room. "But if you want to take notes for when the chapter comes up, feel free."

Officer Phi nodded, then continued. "The evaluations of what we do know has come back from the FBI, and a behavior profile has been made of them. What we do know, from previous serial killer cases like this, is he or she is likely to be a charismatic individual."

I went to the top of the page and made a new paragraph and typed along with what the officer was saying. Writing notes at the top of the page on an unrelated subject felt best.

"From what we know, it's likely they are attractive and lead people to believe they are safe around him or her."

I mentally scoffed. It's rare that I see anyone as attractive, and especially any serial killer story I've looked into doesn't appear to be attractive. But whatever, some people think they're attractive, and kudos to them. I typed out the attractive note and wrote "subjective, I'm sure" as a mental tagline.

"This killer seems to view the woman he or she has killed as objects, and seems to believe he's entitled to their body, and seems to only have interest in women since no men have shown up dead with the same Modus Operandi. Perhaps not in a sexual way, since none of the victims seem to have been sexually assaulted, but certainly in a very perverse and... enigmatic way."

Officer Phi took a breath and paused, closing his eyes as though to compose himself.

"From what we can tell, the victims didn't know their killer long term, only briefly knowing them. Perhaps a modelling agent as most of the women were aspiring models in some form, which would be a quick way to allow these women to lower their guard around the murderer."

He paused again. Something picked at the back of my head, about the mention of models. I decided to ignore it for now, but I could always come back to it. I made a note in the back of my head to revisit it once I reread these notes.

"This serial killer seems to have a distinct affection for actions while dismembering his or her victims." Phi scratched at the back of his head.

I wrinkled my nose. I had an issue with how he used the word "affection" and "actions" in the way he did. It sounded more like poetry than a statement or cautionary explanation from a police officer. It was definitely a romanticism of what the serial killer was doing; he was filling in the gaps for the students with information we don't know, for all anyone knew he was just interested in dismembering his victims to hide their identities and throw off police.

"He prefers to know how they react to their surroundings, perverting their environment and shifting the scene from trustworthy to nightmarish."

Officer Phi looked out at the crowd of students as he spoke. I could see him glancing over each student, studying each one carefully.

"The killer seems to gravitate towards young women especially, women upcoming in their lives, moving forward with their dreams. This serial killer likes to victimize women with pale skin, with as few imperfections like freckles, scars, or acne and so on as possible. They like victims with dark hair, brown or black, none we seem to have found have had a lighter hair color."

I realized that we were no longer just students to him. At least for the pale females in the room, he was looking at all of us as potential victims. He was trying to look at all of us through the serial killer's eye, see us as they might see us, and single out who could be the next victim in order to catch the killer or save the life of the next girl. 

"Unfortunately other details completely vary. The length of the victim's hair, the ages, the eye color, and their heights all change from each victim."

I continued typing as he talked.

"Make no mistake, we are doing all we can to stop this killer. We are using all resources available to us, and we will be receiving more detectives and more help from the FBI shortly. While we don't know much just yet about this killer, we _will_ catch them, and we _will_ hold them accountable for their crimes."

"So how do we keep ourselves safe?" asked one girl. I glanced up and saw she was pale with a fair complexion and dark hair. I mentally agreed with her, seeing the fear written clearly on her face.

"Make sure everyone knows who you're meeting and where you're going. If you think you are likely to be attacked or targeted, please make sure that you are in contact with someone at all times. Don't believe everything anyone says, and especially if someone tries to get you alone make sure you do not spend time alone with them. Even if you trust them, make sure at least one person you also trust or especially are meeting later knows who you are going alone with."

I wrote at the top of the paragraph "How to protect yourself" since I was unable to keep up with what the officer was saying. I frowned slightly, hoping the note would be enough as I continued typing.

"Well that's certainly some food for thought." The teacher spoke up from the back of the class. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut these questions short. Let's get back to the presentation."

Officer Phi nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry for getting so off topic. If you have any more questions or worries about the serial killer, I'll still be here for a little bit after your class ends. I have to make a public statement later today, so going over the details again is always good. Now, where were we with this presentation...?"

The subject moved on and we continued talking and listening to the officer's lecture about common criminals. I continued typing out notes along with him, but every once in a while I would scroll back up to review the list of things about the serial killer. I kept filling in what I could remember from the last statement he had made about staying safe. I tried keeping a level head, knowing that I would be safe since I'm not likely to be targeted.

The class ended, and I gathered my things. I tucked my computer and coffee thermos into my bag, pulling it over my shoulder, and making my way out the door. I hoped I could make it to the bus, sometimes the class runs too late and I miss my bus to go home.

I made my way home to my apartment and tossed all my school supplies by my bed when I got in the door. I pulled off my bra and changed into some pajamas. I couldn't care less about anything else happening around me, ignoring any other assignments assigned or lectures I had sat through, knowing I had earned a long and heavy sleep. So many of the thoughts and interactions today left me drained. I hadn't slept well over the weekend, so hopefully today is what's enough to completely knock me out.

I collapsed into my bed with a sigh, trying to let my mind unwind from the day's proceedings, the time I had spent trying to draw and scrolling through the social medias I had. The news story of the dismembered woman and what the chief had said in class floated back to me. My mind couldn't help but think on what the chief officer had said about being safe. How can you stay safe when you know so little about a killer other than their killing habits.

The ride home had gone by, thankfully, without much need for cognitive thought. My eyes fluttered closed with the fleeting thought of how my class in criminology was the only one with constant guest speakers.

Unavoidably, my mind went back to Stefano and the pictures he showed me. The curiosity about him surged back to life in the back of my mind, the way he had looked at me after he had kissed me continuing to draw itself up from the surfaces of my subconscious. He had looked at me so intense both times he moved his lips away from my skin, eyes like an electric storm at sea, lit up and wide, as though ready to pounce at another word. I was oddly curious about that man, wondering what he had gone through to prompt a change in how he had seen the world, and what was going through his mind when he would act like an old friend to me.

But I couldn't let myself think about that right now. I'm too tired to think it through. My mind is just too full of information and too groggy to sort any form of properly coherent thoughts.

For now, all I desire is sleep...


	5. Red Flags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare makes our Rose think she's solved the case of the serial killer terrorizing Krimson. But is she being too hasty? Or is she just scared because of her vivid dreams?

_Fear._

_That's all I could feel._

_Pure fear surging through my body._

_"Bella. . ." I heard a smooth voice whisper in my ear. "Open your eyes, you can look at me. . ."_

_More fear went through me, and I shook my head. There was a low chuckle coming from above me. I felt fire in my stomach, beginning to overcome my entire form. I was terrified where it would spread to._

_Something inside me begged not to let that warmth meet my heart._

_"Rosa. . ." murmured the voice above me._

_I could feel warm hands resting gently on my arms, not pinning me down forcefully but holding me gently. I felt my body, still full of fear, begin to squirm as I wanted to get away from the thing causing it._

_"Look at me, my dear."_

_The commanding tone made me open my eyes, and I looked up at the person in front of me. Stefano Valentini lay on top of me, a twisted smile on his face as he looked at me._

_"My, your eyes are so pretty," he whispered as he leaned down. He pressed his lips to my forehead, a soft kiss rippling through my head.  
_

_The fire erupted through my entire body. The warmth from Stefano's lips fueled the fire, and I began to cry out. I squirmed more as I felt flames emit from my body, tears streaming down my face. Pain and fear mixed through me, feeling my body turn to ash. My body disintegrated and collapsed, scattering across the blank surface that I lay on.  
_

_"Bella Rosa," he murmured in my ear that was no longer there, a smile dancing across his lips, "You are such an elegant being, and you will be my most prized work of art."  
_

-

I awoke with a jerk, surrounded by darkness. I knew it was late at night from how dark it was in the room, making me realize I was laying in my room. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, still feeling the warmth of the fire heat my body. I pulled at my sheets, feeling my tangled pajamas covered in sweat sticking to my body.

Now that I was released from my prison of warmth, the sweat began to cool my body like it was meant to. I lay back, just breathing a sigh of relief. I realized I still felt warm in my core, my stomach twisting like I was sick. I shuddered, trying not to think on the dream, but inevitably realizing that I could still feel Stefano's lips on my forehead and his breath against my ear and neck.

I jumped up, fear surging through me as I ran to the light switch.

Looking around my room, nothing looked out of place. I breathed deeply in hopes of calming down, letting myself take in every detail and mess throughout my room.

No one but me was in my room. I swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in my mouth. I felt my heart begin to slow it's erratic pace. The heavy heat in my chest and stomach cooled, and I shivered as I stood in the empty room.

I turned to leave my bedroom, then I hesitate. I walk to my bag and grab my laptop, flipping it open and turn it back on. I can't handle being alone right now. Though, as I in fact live alone, I'll have to make due with YouTube videos and music to calm myself.

While waiting for it to boot up, I walk with my laptop to my kitchen. I set it on the counter and type my password into the sign-in page. The screen lights up with an automated message of "Welcome back, Rose" before the loading screen disappears and opens on my notes from the guest lecture.

I glance over the notes I had taken from the questions asked at the end of the lecture. I stood there, reading over the exact phrases the officer used and the notes I interjected while listening.

_"How to protect yourself:_

_"The serial killer is likely charismatic; probably attractive (subjective, I'm sure); has a sense of entitlement to women's bodies (since no men with killer's M.O. have shown up); likely did not have relationship with victims, friendship or acquaintance or otherwise; killer seems to go for women searching for modelling or acting or beauty jobs; "distinct affection (wrong word) for actions while dismembering his or her victims_ _"; killer gravitates towards young women with pale skin with mild imperfections and brown or black hair; hair length, age, eye color, and heights varying."_

I read over the last two notes a few times. I reached a hand to my short brown hair. I had hoped that because I kept it short I wouldn't put me on the potential menu, so to speak.

My mind floated back to my dream. I shuddered again, then turned to fill my kettle with water. It's dark out, so obviously it's too late for coffee, but it's never too late to make a cup of tea.

I might idealize British culture too much.

I let my mind sort out the details it was focusing on as I clicked on the burner under the kettle. I hesitated as I thought about the list the chief had given us. My mind fluttered with details I had picked up, or thought I had realized.

Stefano's charming smile and charismatic gait. He's the only man that's actually been able to turn my head, the first person I've encountered that I would deem "attractive" or someone that looks appealing to me. That's at least two things checked off.

"Entitled to women's bodies" rang in my head. The thought of how he had acted both times I had spoken with him; the way he kissed my hand when I thought he was going to shake it again, and the way he had pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. The way he had forced me to look at him while he stared at me and held my face in his hand. The way he spoke made me think he believed he owned me, saying I was "his good luck charm," and seeming like he was entitled to my time and attention when he had encouraged me to sit with him and review his photos.

Was I reading too far into his interactions with me?

And the photographs he had shown me, it had reminded me of the crime scene photographs I had seen.

I hesitantly went back to my computer screen. I opened a new tab and typed "Stefano Valentini" into the search bar.

I swallowed to myself as the page loaded. I had resisted looking him up, but now I'm worried about this suspicion growing in my mind. A news article appeared as the first link, and I grabbed it, putting it into a new tab.

I read through the article, it being about the body being found: a woman named Emily Lewis. I scrolled through, realizing I had read through this story before. I kept reading, coming across the paragraph "Emily's longtime friend Stefano Valentini appeared heartbroken at the news: 'It's a terrible thing that happened to my lovely model... At least I was able to capture her essence forever before it was destroyed.'"

My eyes flickered, now finding meaning in what I thought was a throwaway quote from a random citizen.

Could this be real? My stomach turned at the thought. Could this man really be a serial killer? _Is_ he the serial killer terrorizing Krimson?

Those bloody photos, the women in them missing limbs like the crime scene photos. Almost exactly the same limbs missing, their bodies looking less like special effects in my mind and more like actual corpses being used to create photographs.

Could Stefano have used models as props, as literal props and killed them?

I jerked, then sped walked to my bedroom again. I rummaged around and found my school bag, grabbing inside it and finding my phone. I opened it and unlocked it. I quickly dialed 911, ready to make a full statement and explain what I had realized.

Then I hesitated. Was a charismatic man enough for me to call the police? Just because he acted like he did doesn't mean he's a serial killer

No. No, I must be acting irrational.

I let my hand drop to my side and walked back to my kitchen. As I walked in, the kettle began to boil and whistle on the stove. Swallowing, I set my phone by my computer and poured the water into my mug. I exited the phone app and opened the timer function. I typed in the time for my tea on my phone, starting and setting it back down on the counter.

I sighed and turned back to my computer. I read over the statement again, thinking over it as much as I could.

Then the phrase "longtime friend" jumped out at me. Stefano had known Mrs. Lewis for a long time. That was completely unlike what the chief had said while speaking in class today, that the killer likely didn't know his victims very long before killing them.

I forced a laugh at myself. Of course, I completely missed that. I chuckled out a sigh to try and calm myself. I don't need to be so afraid. I began rereading the entire article again, trying to commit it to memory.

After calming myself down, I realized that jumping at shadows after a nightmare is probably not a good idea. Stefano can't be the serial killer in Krimson, I'm sure the police would have centered in on him far too fast otherwise.

That doesn't mean Stefano isn't dangerous or trying to implant ideas in my head. He seemed to be taking interest in me, maybe, since he's been acting somewhat affectionate towards me. Or maybe that's completely incorrect too, and I'm completely misreading the situation.

My phone rang out, drawing me out of my thoughts. I looked down and saw my timer had stopped and was beeping at me to shut off the alarm. I unlocked my phone again and stopped the timer. I turned and began preparing my tea.

As I reached behind my computer for the sugar, I closed out of the news article tab and clicked another link. It was another news article, but not about a murder this time.

I placed my mug by my computer and went to my fridge to get some milk. After pouring milk in the tea, then putting it back away, I pulled out a spoon to stir the tea. I looked over the article I had clicked on, written by a Susan Phi, stirring as I began reading.

It was ruthless. It tore into Stefano and how he portrayed women with his art, how he is a professional photographer but not an artist. It spoke about how he had been injured while working as a war photographer, and it changed how he saw the world. When when he had returned from service he began to make art with a deeper meaning and reflections on what beauty means.

"Oh," I mumbled under my breath. I felt myself beginning to understand.

His reaction when I complimented his work had nothing to do with affection towards me specifically. His photographs hadn't been received well when he exhibited them. People were being so unkind to him about his art, following a set mind that when a man portrays only women he is only interested in the sexual appeal.

That explains why he was trying to gain a spot in my community college's gallery. He believed so much in his work, that was evident when he showed me his photos, but he wasn't being given a welcome reception by the professional art community.

I realized I had been stirring my tea this entire time. I stopped and turned to put the spoon in the sink.

Oh, this poor man. I was about to send the police after him, and he most definitely doesn't deserve it. He has been run off his feet trying to get recognition with his art and was constantly being forced into a niche of "shock value" that doesn't resonate with his work at all. I've seen shock value work, I've made some myself and watched people in my art classes present their gory and violent ideas in my art classes. Stefano's work wasn't anywhere close to that, that is so obvious to anyone who has spent any portion their life studying art.

I bit my lip, bringing my mug to my mouth to blow gently over the top of it. I sipped carefully at the tea, hoping that I would have a chance to make it up to him, despite him not knowing I had that thought.

I look at a few more articles from the local paper, reading about him.

Stefano Valentini. He's most certainly the most interesting artist I had ever come into contact with.


	6. Wary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting leads to depression if you let your thoughts control you. Rose reflects on her pains, her thoughts, for too long and reaches her breaking point. She doesn't want to fall in love again, she thinks the heartbreak will kill her. When she realizes that the Italian artist is capturing her interest unlike anyone else, she decides to take a shot. Is he someone she can really love, really trust?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty chapter. Fair warning, this has some hinting of suicidal thoughts. It will make sense in the future, since both main characters seem a little out of character for the story.

I sat alone in the hallway. I had been waiting for several minutes, there hadn't been another person to walk passed me for a while. I needed to talk to the head of the art department about my work in the gallery, to ensure all the current paper work was up to date.

The dean was late to come back to the office. It happens, but I was still a little annoyed. Sometimes the staff doesn't come in until later in the day, but the dean had been called across campus.

My painting instructor, the gallery organizer, walked passed and saw me. "Good afternoon." she said, making me look up.

"Oh, good afternoon." I said as well, standing from my chair.

She laughed. "Are you waiting for me, or are you waiting for your bus, or. . .?"

I realized I must have looked incredibly bored or annoyed. "Oh, no... I was waiting for the dean of the art department."

She smiled in understanding. "She went home today. There was a family emergency and had to run home."

I looked down sheepishly. "Alright, I'll try again some other time."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was trying to make sure all of my working paperwork was in order."

"Oh." My instructor nodded. She smiled at me. "Don't worry, there's always tomorrow or the next day. The semester doesn't end for a few months still, so you'll have time to come back."

"Alrighty." I said quietly.

My painting professor continued walking down the hallway to her office. The main office was locked, and no one was coming to unlock it.

That cleared my entire day. My last class instructor had cancelled, and my only other class had been let out early. I frowned to myself, then turned to gather my things.

 _It's not a bad thing, it happens._ I thought in my mind, trying to stop this perceived slight from making my mind tumble into a worse depression. _It's not a bad thing, it's not a bad thing, it's normal for things to go slightly wrong._

I decided to go down to the gallery and chat with Angela. I had already done my hours for the day, so maybe I can just chat while I wait for the next bus. I began walking down the hallway, thinking about what I would talk about.

Or, I really don't feel like socializing. I frowned to myself, and stopped walking, pulling out my phone to check the time. I had an hour and a half at least until I have to catch my bus.

I sighed. I walked down the hallway, but looked for an outlet near a sitting area instead. The hallway was almost completely empty, so I could make my choice of sitting area, but most hallway outlets were on the bottom floor. So I hoped I could make find one up here that was free. Maybe I can just lose myself in the internet for a little while.

"Hello again."

I looked up from the floor of the hallway. I saw a well dressed man standing before me with bangs covering his right eye several paces away. He wore a light blue dress shirt and what looked like suit pants, probably the most casual I'd ever seen him dressed. I hadn't seen him for about two and a half weeks, but there stood the enigma of a man, still out of place in a college atmosphere. Stefano smiled at me, and I blinked in surprise. He began to close the distance between us, and stopped in front of me.

"I had come for a follow-up meeting to discuss the gallery I am hoping to host, and here you are again." He chuckled lowly. "I always run into you before I go on to my meetings, it seems."

I smiled weakly. "It's nice to see you again, too."

Stefano stopped smiling. "Is everything okay with you?"

I blinked and turned away. I still felt guilty from thinking about his involvement with the serial killer case. Of course I would run into him while I'm not feeling well. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just not having the best day."

"We can't have that, miss Rose." A hand gripped my chin, making me look up at him. His eyes seemed to darken when he looked at me. "Stay with me. After my meeting I can make you feel better."

I pulled out of his hand. "Sorry, I. . ."

I felt a sickness pool in my stomach. It was enough to make me overwhelmed, to make the depressive feeling take over. Before I knew it, I was completely overcome with helplessness and ready to cry. I felt stranded with nowhere to turn. I knew it wasn't true, but the sensation in my head completely ruined any thought that might help me calm down.

I can't let myself do this. Not again.

I felt fingers guide my chin up, more gently this time. I was looking into Stefano's eyes. There was a burning intensity in them, he seemed angry, but not at me.

"Has someone hurt you?" he asked lowly.

I looked away, backing away from the man in front of me. "Go on to your meeting. I'm fine--"

"You're about to cry."

I looked back at him.

"Miss Rose, you do know that I can see through everything people try and show me, correct?" He frowned, but didn't make a motion to touch me again. "I am a photographer, and I have seen every emotion hidden under the sun. It is impossible for someone to hide their feelings and real thoughts from me when it is always so plainly written on their face."

I watched as his unhidden eye flickering between mine, seemingly unsure of which one to focus on. I nodded.

"Were you on your way home?"

"No, I was thinking about just sitting until the next bus."

"You take the bus?"

I nodded again, letting myself look at his face. "I don't drive. I'm a little too scared to."

He didn't respond to that. After a moment, Stefano held out his left hand towards me, as always clad in a leather glove. He smiled warmly.

"Come with me, Rose."

I looked at his hand, hesitating. I couldn't bring myself to care what would happen to myself. If I would regret it, I would regret it. If I was right those weeks ago, if he was the serial killer, I couldn't bring myself to care if I was the next victim.

Swallowing the nausea and lump in my throat, I lifted my hand and fit it in his. His grasp gently closed around mine, and when I looked up, his smile had not changed. His eyes looked at me with a gentle look that I hadn't seen in them yet. I swallowed again and just watched him.

He began to walk slowly down the hallway. I felt warm, and oddly safe. I blinked and walked a little closer to his body.

"Why do you want me to come with you?" I managed after I found my voice.

Stefano glanced slightly down at me. "You have been kind and helpful to me, _bella._ You have treated me in ways that is rare these days, so I think that should be rewarded."

"Rewarded for you or for me?"

He stared at me, an obvious puzzled look crossing his face. "Why would I reward myself for your work and kindness?"

I smiled slightly. I couldn't bring myself to respond to him.

My chest hurt. For some reason, when I was around Stefano or let my thoughts meander about him, I began to feel sick. If I keep thinking about him, my chest begins to hurt. Like I'm hollow, searching for something to fill me. Trying to ignore it never seems to help, but I can't really do anything about it.

I don't want to feel myself falling anymore, but it's so hard to keep myself from my own emotions.

I leaned my head against his arm, his cologne surrounding me as we walked. I felt empty and sick, but comforted by staying with him.

Stefano stopped walking, and I heard a clunking sound. "Oh, damn." he muttered.

I looked up, realizing we had come to the dean's office again. I stood up straight, feeling an odd sense of vertigo overtake me.

"It seems they've gone out again." he said with a tone of annoyance. "Would you mind waiting with me?"

"Oh, sorry, I should have said that." I said.

Stefano looked down at me quizzically.

"Sorry, I had been waiting too, before we met up. She went home because of some family emergency."

He sighed, though it seemed to be for show. "Perhaps we should try to reschedule again. I'm not quite fond of having my plans rewritten."

"The gallery organizer is here, though. I can take you to her office."

Stefano smiled at me. He lifted his right hand, patting my head, then drawing a knuckle down the side of my face. I shivered as a tingle went down the back of my spine. He chuckled.

"Would it be too much to ask of you?" he murmured, leaning down and planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I froze, feeling the emptiness ache even worse. I turned to him, unsure of what I felt as he rested his right hand on the back of my head. I leaned into his kiss, trying to make the pain go away, my heart beginning to burst inside of me. He had kissed me three times now, as though to just reassure me that he only wanted my kindness, but since we had only met three times it seemed improper.

"Why do you kiss me?" I murmured as he pulled away.

He looked down at me with that same neutral expression that covered his face when he was thinking. He just blinked at me, then turned away.

"Can you show me where her office is?" was all he said.

I paused, trying to piece together if that was meant to be an answer. I realized I was an idiot, then silently turned and began to walk towards my instructor's office. He followed me, letting his hand let go of mine.

I didn't look back at him. I felt my stomach turn, feeling unhappy for some reason. I realized how unrealistic I had been. There is no reason that I'm putting any trust in this man, no reason I'm letting him touch me and especially kiss anywhere on my body. I've only met him three times, I don't know him.

He's a stranger.

I felt my emotions boil over and I felt overwhelmed again. I could only imagine how he thought of me. I probably looked so easy to him, an easy target to make fall for him, someone to chew up and use.

I felt my eyes tear up as I tried to choke down my emotions. God I was being irrational about everything. The first person I've ever met to get this kind of rise out of me, to make me feel like I wanted to be around them. I couldn't keep Stefano out of my mind since I met him, the way he held himself and spoke just intrigued me, and all I could think was how I wanted to know more about him.

I wonder if I'm about to hit my period. My hormones turn me on my head when I'm about to start my monthly cycle.

We reached the teacher's door, and I silently pointed at it. I heard his footsteps stop behind me.

"Thank you, _bella Rosa._ " Stefano said. His voice was withdrawn, as though coaxing me to look at him.

I didn't, I simply turned down the hall and kept walking. I felt pain in my chest as I walked away. Who am I fooling? No one but myself.

I sniffed as I heard a knock on the door behind me. I opened the door to the stairs and started walking down. I kept choking down my tears, holding onto the railing to make sure I wouldn't fall. I can't let myself go through this, not again. I've been heartbroken enough, I don't need to let myself feel it again.

Why am I choked up about this? Why do I have to be an emotional idiot?

I made my way to the bottom of the staircase. I walked into the hallway, and looked out the window. The sky was dark and it was raining. I laughed, feeling myself snap out of the depression I had been stewing in all day. Even if it was at least for a moment, it was alleviated.

How moody.

I walked to the window and pulled out my phone. I took some pictures, hoping they turned out decently. I love the rain, love the feeling it tends to instill in people.

I walked to the door next to the window and went outside. I took my bag off and set it by the wall. I stood still in the rain, looking out into the sky. I sighed quietly, feeling the heavy rain hit my face and dampen my clothes.

 _This is real_ , I thought to myself. _This is the world around me_. I don't have to find happiness or love, I don't have to find anyone.

I don't want anyone, I told myself. I knew that wasn't quite true. But it was what I've been telling myself for so many years.

I glanced at my bag, then walked further into the rain, beginning to smile. My shirt was almost completely wet, and I felt a chill begin to instill into my body.

This is real. The ridiculous feelings I've been imagining aren't.

I just stood in the rain.

This is real...

I stopped smiling. I turned my face away from the sky. I could feel hot tears beginning to flow down my cheeks.

What am I even doing?

I'm behaving like even more of an idiot, that's what. I'm arguing with myself over something so insignificant, about someone who isn't even remotely part of my life.

I felt something wrap around me. I looked down as what appeared to be a black blanket covered my head and blue-clothed arms wrapped around my stomach.

" _Dio mio. . ._ " I heard a voice murmur behind me. "You are going to make yourself sick, my dear."

I turned around, looking into the eyes of Stefano. He sighed.

"What are we going to do with you, hm?"

I tucked my head into his shoulder, closing my eyes. I realized he had put a coat around my shoulders, it looked like the coat I had first seen him in. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling warmth branch through my body. Stefano held my body to his, rubbing my shoulder.

"Why are you so sweet to me, Stefano?"

"Does there need to be a reason?"

I hesitated. "What do you want from me?"

Stefano went silent again. He simply held me close, and I let myself just... feel it. It hurt inside my heart. I didn't want to feel anymore, I wanted to tear out my heart and forget my life.

His warmth, his cologne, and his pulse were all I was aware of. I could still feel the rain hitting my back, but his head was blocking it from hitting mine.

"Stefano?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you acting like this today? You haven't acted like yourself since we met."

He lowered his head, turning his face into my hair. I could feel his breath running through my hair, rain water running down onto my head and sending a chill down my back.

"You are inspiring me, _bella._ " he whispered. "You do not act like others to me, and you see my work in its true beauty. You have shown me more kindness than anyone I know."

I could tell some of what he was saying was rehearsed. I couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't want to feel pain anymore, I was so tired and ready for it all to stop.

"Come with me, _bella mia._ " he whispered to me. "Let me capture your beauty."

I laughed into his shoulder. "You might want to take a second look, I'm not someone you want in your portfolio."

"Then you need a better mirror, or perhaps a better photographer."

I pushed myself into him. I knew then, I knew.

He was the serial killer. He was the murderer looking for victims in Krimson. If I was his last resort, or newest victim, then so be it. I didn't want this life, so I would rather give it to someone who would care more about it than me.

I looked up at him, seeing his eye open and look into mine.

"Only if you let me do one thing." I whisper back.

"Anything, _bella._ Anything."

I raised my hands, gently touching his face. His eye followed them, then met mine again. It was strange how human he felt, how real he felt under my touch. I pulled him down to me, pressing my lips to his. His jaw moved under my hands as his lips molded to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling his hands tense around my shoulders.

He leaned into me, lips parting mine and filling my mouth with his breath. The ache took me over and I held tight. I anchored myself to this singular moment, feeling the softness of his lips press into mine, the heat of his body warming me and holding me, securing me to him.

I pulled away, feeling him pull back as well. His visible eye opened and looked down at me.

"I'll come with you now." I whispered.

His face didn't change as he looked at me. His eye shifted, changing like a strange liquid giving away his emotions. It flickered down my face, looking at me.

He pulled back, walking away from me. He picked up my bag and something sitting by it that I hadn't noticed. A camera lay by my bag on top of Stefano's portfolio.

He walked back to me, tucking his portfolio and camera into my bag and closing it, slinging it over his shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, guiding me with him. I shivered as the warmth came through me again. I leaned into him and let myself close my eyes. If this was going to be my last time, I wanted to feel happiness. I never felt real happiness, never felt anything like this. Any time I had fallen in love I was used, abused, and left heartbroken.

Stefano Valentini is a serial killer.

And I want him to be the last person I fall in love with.

Because he is the only one that has been truly kind to me.


	7. Photo Shoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has fallen into Stefano's trap, and she already knows she'll die by his hand. However, he decides he isn't done with using her for his art just yet, but he won't let her know that until much later.

Stefano guided me to his car, silent, knowing I had fallen into his trap. I didn't care about that, I just wanted to spend my last moments with him. I kept myself against him, I didn't want to let go.

I buckled myself in as he sat down in the driver's seat. "Are you ready?" he asked, glancing at me. His face held no emotion, no reaction to what I would say. He started his car, a smooth shudder to life and began to back out of his parking spot.

I nodded. I wondered if he had shown this form of interest in all his victims until they were at his mercy. It was like a mask had fallen away after I had kissed him. I think he was going to do anything until I eventually went with him.

"The gallery planner was about to leave," Stefano filled the silence in his car, "and unfortunately I had needed to speak with the head of the department as well as the planner."

"Have you gotten any feedback on whether or not you're going to be shown in the gallery?"

"They've seemed promising, so far, the meetings." He chuckled. "We've moved to discussing what kind of art I shall showcase, looking for whether they want my artwork or simply the unstaged photos."

I nodded slightly. "Why wouldn't they want the other photographs?"

His face twisted into a grimace as he watched the road. "Perhaps because of the poor press they received before."

"That's bullshit."

Stefano glanced at me, a quick look of surprise crossing his face before turning back to the road.

"It's rare that any photographs are shown in the gallery unless they're turned into mixed media paintings or extremely spectacular." I sat back and raised an eyebrow. "I can only think of literally one picture that was showcased as a photograph. I don't really remember what it was, just that it was only one time. The others have been mixed media photographs that have been painted over, or something similar to what's up now."

"The portraits of the naked women."

"Yeah." I sighed. "I'm still not fond of that artist. And the installment is still up."

"Are you hoping I am accepted so you can look at something else?"

"No." I scoffed. "Your work is miles better than the current 'artist.' I don't believe the guy even knew what he was talking about when he spoke, he just wanted easy money."

Stefano chuckled.

I sat in silence, thinking if I should tell him I know what he's going to do.

Minutes passed as we drove through Krimson. I watched as the city flew by us, watching the people on the sidewalk. I saw a familiar road that would lead directly to my apartment if we followed it, but then that was gone in a brief second. I wondered what people would be witness to after I was gone. Did people see us together before? Would he be caught because he was publicly interested in me? I wondered about my possessions. I don't have a will. I don't have any friends or family to give to.

I sat back in my seat, watching where we were going. I realized we were going to the outskirts of town. I wondered if we were close to where we were going.

"I hope you do not mind, I'm going to drive by my home to drop off my camera and portfolio. You are welcome to come inside, if you choose."

I swallowed. I knew it was a ruse, and I knew going inside wouldn't exactly be a choice. Should I let him know I know he's going to kill me? I sighed after a moment, and decided I should.

"Stefano. . ." I began, searching for the right words.

"Yes, Rose?"

"I..." I sighed again. "I know you're not just dropping off your things. I know you're... I know you are planning to kill me, to use my body in your art..."

He was silent, staring forward as he turned down a road. His mouth was turned down, and a scowl appeared on his face.

"I know you killed those models. I... I know that you're the serial killer in Krimson."

He kept frowning. "Who have you told?"

"No one. I swear on what remains of my life."

"How did you find out?" His voice was tight, almost furious.

"My criminology class had the chief of the police department come in as a guest, and he ended up talking about... Some of your models that have been found."

He chuckled, sounding almost forced. "He discussed the bodies found, yes."

"Well, you fit all the things he said the serial killer would be. It took me a while to fit it together completely, and I realized I fit the broad margins for your victims. I... I didn't know until you had put your jacket on me in the rain. You were going a little out of your way to comfort a stranger."

"And are you scared?"

I paused. "Yes. It's a little scary." I leaned back and pulled his jacket a little more around myself. "But... I think if you hadn't approached me, I was..."

I went silent. I didn't want to say it out loud. I closed my eyes. It was such a taboo idea, and I know I could get help for it, but I'm so tired of trying to fight my depression. I'm so tired of fighting my worst thoughts, tired of trying to pretend everything will be okay.

"You would destroy your own life?"

The car came to a stop and shut off. I looked over at Stefano. He had undone his seat belt, turning towards me and staring at me.

I blinked, looking down to my lap. "I think... Yes... I wanted... It all to stop..." I looked out the window, seeing the city a little farther away than I expected. "It... It hurt. I realized I... I was brokenhearted again. I didn't want to be, so..."

"Why a broken heart?"

I closed my eyes. I felt a flutter in my chest. "I'm... It's not often I fall in love. But when I do, it's often hard and fast. I can fall in love so fully, I don't realize I'm in a bad situation... Until... Until it's too late."

I unbuckled myself, then turned to him.

"I was... Well, let's just say my love was taken advantage of too much." I laughed to myself, trying to laugh off my own trauma. "I realized... I was falling in love with you... So I decided to put my life in your hands, since I at least knew you would do more with it than I could see in my future."

Stefano smiled slightly. "Come, then, let's not waste time."

He made his way around the car and helped me out of my seat, extending his hand and helping me out. I pulled my bag over my shoulder as I stood up, walking with him to the door of the house laying before us.

He unlocked the door and guided me inside. I watched as he moved passed me, seeming more at ease now that he was somewhere familiar. He sighed quietly, then raised his hand at me, turning with a slight smile.

"Come, _bella._ " He extended his arm out, and I walked to him. "I've never done this with someone who respects my work, so I will make sure you are treated like a queen."

I swallowed, fitting my hand in his. I followed him through his front room, his shoes clicking across hardwood floors. The scent of him surrounding me, overwhelming me in a new way. It was a subtle smell, and it was nice.

We walked into another room, a much larger one. I saw a red couch sitting at an angle, pointed towards a large open area where several colored sheets hung from the ceiling. A black one filled the space, curving around like a stage, pooling at the ground. Several camera equipment pieces stood around the room, tripods of varying heights, some holding light boxes as they pointed at the center.

Stefano stopped walking and turned to me. He had a coy smile on his face, looking me over.

"Before we begin, I shall have you dress appropriately for the camera."

I nodded. He walked off, allowing me to continue staring around the room. He soon walked back, carrying an intricate-looking white dress. I looked at it, seeing several layers to the skirt, causing the lower ruffles to be raised slightly.

I took it from his hands, and he walked out of the room. I watched him, then made my way to his couch. I set down the dress, and took off my bag, then his coat. I lay them on the couch and began getting dressed. The dress came to my knees, and there weren't any sleeves, much like the blue dress in his "Bouquet" photo.

I managed to get the hook at the top done, but couldn't quite get the zipper to respond properly.

I sighed, then went to the door Stefano had exited, knocking on it, before opening it. He was walking to the door, a small package in hand, before he paused and glanced over me.

Wordlessly, he continued into the room. He walked forward and went by the sheet that hung from the ceiling. He pulled out a rolling table and set the box on it. He opened it, pulling out a few things from it.

"Ahm..." I tried to find my voice, holding onto the back of the dress.

Stefano turned to me, curious. Then he recognized my issue.

"Those zippers can be so precarious, no?"

I nodded, turning my back to him. He grasped at the zipper, feeling him grasp the fabric right behind my left hip, pulling the clicking zipper up slowly and delicately.

"There." I heard him step back.

I turned and looked at him. He smiled in triumph, looking over me. He turned to the table and picked something up. He smiled at me, and moved behind me, sliding something white and cool over my neck. I felt the weight of it, a metal necklace, rest on my collarbone, leaching off the heat coming from my skin.

He handed me stockings and what appeared to be flats. I walked back to the couch, watching him beginning to set up the lights and turn them on. I slipped the pantyhose stockings up my legs, then fitting the flats on my feet.

Once he was done, he walked back out of the room. He came back and walked to me with a comb and a tub of something.

"While your hair suits your face normally, I'm afraid it will not do for this shoot."

He turned me around, combing out my short hair. Then he opened the tub of hair gel and combing that through my hair. He styled it back, lifting it off my neck and away from my skin.

He turned me to face him, and he took care to make a single clump of my hair and let it fall over my face.

Stefano smiled at me, or rather this version of me, and stood up. He grabbed my hand and lead me to the center of the photo shoot area. He grabbed a white object from the table, and he brought it to me. I recognized it as something from another one of his photos of a white ballerina, a white masquerade mask she had worn.

He slipped it over my face, and it felt odd knowing I was wearing something one of his previous victims had worn.

He marveled at me, walking around me almost like a predator seeing its prey frozen in fear.

But I wasn't afraid.

I felt content. It was going to be over soon, I'm sure of it. And I can be something beautiful for him.

Stefano began to raise my arms, and I held them aloft above my head. He disappeared, and I saw some of the lights shifting from behind my mask.

"I've never met someone so beautiful," he chuckled, "that had such a death wish."

He walked around me, posing me again, moving my arms and turning the direction I was facing.

"You have kept your composure from the start, and yet you say you are scared to face death."

"I think most people are scared, even if they are resolved to die."

He chuckled, and I saw him walk away. I heard a song begin to play softly and a shutter begin to click from a few feet away.

"Wonderful..." he murmured.

He walked away again, then draped something over my shoulders. He raised my chin to make me look towards the light. He pressed his fingers against my mouth, opening it just slightly as though to make me look in awe. I held that pose as he backed up, beginning to take more pictures.

"Perfect, _bella._ Perfect."

I tuned into the shutter and the sound of the music, my arms slightly tiring and my back protesting from holding this pose after a few minutes. I could hear him moving around me, taking pictures all the while.

After a while, the shutter stopped. He continued to walk around me, his loafers clicking against the wood flooring. I closed my eyes as he walked away. I wondered if that was it. If he was going to kill me.

The soft tapping of his shoes returned, and a hand gently lifted my head from under my chin.

"You have a habit of lowering your head, miss Rose."

Something cold slipped against my throat. My heart fluttered and pounded. I could hear him hum slightly, thinking about his newest piece I'm sure.

I felt a small amount of pain slice at the side of my neck, stopping before reaching my throat. He stopped cutting and made an identical mark on the other side. I could feel blood begin to flow down my skin, covering the necklace he had placed on me.

The knife left my skin and he backed away. I could see him smiling, really truly smiling as he regarded me.

He put his knife to the tip of my earlobe, and I felt it pierce the skin. He dipped his finger in the blood from my neck and pressed it where he made the incision. He repeated his action on the other ear, cutting and placing a small amount of blood on it.

He stepped away again, coming back after a moment, and placing something in the fingers of my right hand. He kept my hand open and extended as something cool slipped between them. I felt something sharp pricking the base of my pointer and middle finger, holding it in place. I winced and saw him begin to smile as blood trickled down my hand.

I ignored the pain, watching him circle me again. I heard the camera begin to take more pictures as he watched me.

"Hmm..." I heard him hum as though in annoyance. I instinctively looked towards him.

He walked towards me, fiddling with an intricate knife in his fingers.

"You are quite lovely, my dear." He said quietly, his voice turning agitated. "But there is something _missing_."

I nodded slightly, watching him come to me, turning my face back to my left to look at the light.

"You, however, are doing beautifully. You have been holding this pose for longer than some professional models would be able to."

I nodded slightly. He held my head by my chin, turning it slightly as though to get a better look at me. I could see him frowning slightly, and I wasn't sure what was coming next.

He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

Stefano backed away, beginning to take more photos. The classical music died down, then surged back to life for the fourth time as he continued taking pictures. I realized the camera shutter was sounding almost in time with the music, his shoes tapping around me as though he was dancing to it. The song that had been playing must also have been on repeat for a while, as the same melody kept playing all around us.

Finally he sighed, and the shutter stopped clicking. The music was stopped, and I heard him walking towards me. He grabbed my arms and gently lowered them, and I felt them protest as blood flowed back through them.

"You were right about my last piece, it was far too busy." He said, seeming to be in thought. "When I was creating it, I certainly tried something new, but it doesn't seem to resonate with the rest of my work."

 _Why hasn't he killed me yet?_ was all I could think as he spoke.

He slipped the mask off my face. I blinked and looked into his eye as the full light hit mine. He had a halfhearted smirk on his face, perhaps feeling he doesn't need to act anymore.

"I'm afraid I cannot indulge you for more tonight, my dear. This piece cannot be completed just yet. I need time to become fully inspired by you, then I shall turn you into a full piece of art."

I nodded as he slipped the necklace off my collarbone, pulling the transparent cloth that had been draped over my shoulders off of me. I didn't know how I felt about it, not quite sure if I was happy to be left alive or not. I looked at my right hand, seeing a rose stuck to my fingers, its thorns lodged into my skin.

"You may keep the rose, if you so choose." He returned to my side and smiled at me more. "For your time and patience, I wish to reward you. We can discuss what you know about me and how we will approach this topic another time."

He guided me to a bathroom, showing me where his towels were. He dampened a small hand towel and left me to clean up the blood from my body.

Once I was cleaned a little, I inspected the cuts he had made around my neck. My ear didn't bleed all that much, which I assume is why he put a dot of blood on it. My right hand hurt quite a bit from the cuts, but I couldn't do much about it. My neck looked like I had sprouted singular gills, or I got into a fight with a crazed scissor-man. I sighed, hoping it wouldn't scar.

I walked out of the bathroom, worried about the white dress I was wearing. The blood had absorbed into the collar and begun to dry. I wondered if he had wanted the dress to be ruined.

I didn't see Stefano as I walked back into the studio. I glanced around, then saw a small trail of rose petals on the ground. They led to a door by the bathroom, and I followed them. It led into a bedroom, and I initially glanced around. It was neat and pristine, soft carpet meeting my feet as I walked in. The rose petals stopped at the doorway, but I kept walking in.

I took in the sight of a four poster bed around the corner. Stefano lay on the bed, watching me with his warm smile and his eye almost cold as he looked at me. I stared at him, laying in wait for me, watching my every movements. I took in his form, laying on his side, unbuttoned shirt laying open and pants already unbuckled.


	8. Reward (smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano decides to reward Rose for her compliance in his work, and knowing she loves him one thing seems to be ideal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is a smut chapter. Descriptions of sex acts, and so on. Hope you like it.

He looked almost like an angel, with his smile and perfectly carved face. My heart pounded in my chest as I took in the sight of him. The notion was almost laughable, since he was a serial murderer that tortured people to death, but he was gorgeous. I blinked at him, trying to compute why he was laying before me like this.

I hesitantly walked towards the bed, carefully walking forwards. He noticed, his eyes almost lighting up.

"Have you ever had sex, my dear?" he questioned, his smile turning sly.

I let my mouth open, initially to say no. Then I backed up a few steps, feeling my stomach turn. I saw him sit up on his spot on the bed, my reaction confusing him.

"Not... Not willingly."

He sat up completely. And he frowned.

"That is unacceptable." His voice was low, but I could hear the tension in it, ready to snap in rage.

I looked up. "Oh, s-sorry, I--"

"Come to me, I'll show you how a real gentleman treats a lady."

I blinked, letting myself process what he said. "Wh..." I swallowed, holding my tongue.

He continued to frown, but lifted his hand and gestured for me to come to him with his finger. I found myself walking forward. When I got to the bed he grabbed my hands and helped me crawl onto the bed over him. He had me hover over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. My stomach twisted, and I felt heat fill my face.

"I-I'm sorry if I'm not good at this."

"Then let me teach you." he whispered in my ear.

"Is it too forward?" I trembled, feeling his hands softly traverse me. "Too soon?"

"No, I don't think so." He pressed his lips to my ear, kissing the my neck under my earlobe. "I want to praise you for how you have encouraged me to continue with my art. You deserve my best work, and I will ensure you have it."

His hands gently grasp my shoulders, then slowly make their way up to my face. I stare into his eye as he watches me. I swallow and lean forward, closing my eyes, feeling him move towards me too.

He kisses me and holds my body to his. I whimper, confusion and ache swimming together in my head, my skin still stinging from the marks he had given me. I let my fingers roam his body, slipping slightly in his undone shirt.

If this isn't real, I don't want to wake up.

I felt his arms wrap around my waist, pulling my hips into him. He guided me down, making me sit on his lap. I felt my face heat up, and I broke away, hiding my face in his neck.

"Is it too much, _bella mia?_ " His face turned and nudged the side of my head.

I shook my head. I could feel him through the dress he had put me in. He was already hardening under me, and it triggered both fear and lust.

"Just..." I whispered. "Just be gentle... please..."

I felt him twitch against me. "Of course, my dear." His lips pressed against my ear, his breath hot as it tumbled over my skin, raising goosebumps and causing me to close my eyes in embarrassment.

"You won't remember anyone else after tonight." He whispered lowly, dragging his lips against my skin, softly trailing them down to my neck. "You will forget everyone in your life. You will forget your pain. Your sorrow. And you will only remember me."

I whimpered slightly, and turned my face away. I raised a hand to my mouth. I didn't want to admit he was getting to me so easily. But he was, he had caused the strongest feelings I had ever felt about someone, the fastest I've fallen for anyone.

"May I lay you on your back?"

I looked at his face, feeling his tense arms around me, keeping me in place. I nodded, then felt him unwrap one arm, sliding us backwards. He carefully turned the both of us over, flipping me onto his bed. I lay back against the sheets, feeling their softness, feeling him above me.

"S-Stefano...!" I whimpered, putting my hands on his shoulders to try and anchor myself to this moment. I felt terrified, but it felt good, my stomach twisting and my heart beating harshly in my chest.

He hushed me quietly. His arms slipped behind my back, unhooking the top clasp, then slowly pulling down the zipper. Each click of it moving down my body, each second he took sliding his finger down my spine, caused me to ache even more, anticipation filling every inch of my body.

I hadn't felt this before, this lust, this want. I felt it pool in my core, and I could feel a wetness slip from inside of me. I couldn't remember a time I had wanted someone as bad as this.

I raised my hands and grabbed his shoulders again. I whimpered pitifully, beginning to slide his shirt off of him. Stefano complied, taking his shirt off as he stared down at me.

"Do you still want this?" He whispered.

I blinked, allowing myself the time to think it through. Then I nodded.

"Yes." I breathed. "Yes, I want it if you want it, Stefano. I... I want to have sex with you."

His face didn't react, but he lay down on me. His lips found mine, and I closed my eyes, fitting my arms over his shoulder and hands in his hair. He groaned lowly, and I felt my legs raise up around him.

"You seem a little impatient, _bella._ " He chuckled as he pulled away. "But I must let you know, I lose myself when I have sex. I have a hard time controlling myself when I have something I want."

I swallowed. I felt the fear return, but I kept holding him, pulling him into me and hiding my face.

"Do not fret, my dear. I listen, and I _will_ stop when you ask me to."

I nodded, rubbing my nose against his neck. He chuckled lowly, sending the vibration through my entire frame.

He pulled away from me, helping me slide off the dress, pulling it from my torso and arms, then gently sliding it down my legs. I flinched slightly, feeling exposed to him.

He smiled slightly as he took in my form. He lay back down, and grasped at my underwear, sliding it down my hips. I whimpered again as the cold hit me and drafted over my aroused body.

He didn't stare at my sex as he pulled down my panties and pulled off the stockings he had me wear. I swallowed as I watched him take in all of me. He smiled down at me as he found his way on top of my body again.

His arms slipped under me, the last thing to take care of was my bra. His gentle fingers slipped under it and unhooked it, bit by bit. I trembled, feeling his warmth dominate my body, and the warm wetness of my aroused core dominate my thoughts.

"Stefano..." I whispered. My thoughts were clouded, my physical and mental form taken over by this singular moment.

"Good." He whispered in my ear, guiding my hands to his shoulders. "Only my name on your lips, _cara mia._ Only my name ever again."

He sat up, pulling down his pants. I watched him slide them off the bed, and I swallowed, seeing his tent in his underwear. He chuckled, and I turned my head away as I realized I was shamelessly staring. I saw him pull those off in my peripheral view, and he lay back down on me.

" _Cara._ " He whispered in my ear, causing me to moan. "Last time I shall ask. Do you want to have sex with me?"

I looked up into his eye, feeling the gravity of this, feeling the weight of his body laying on me, feeling his sex so dangerously close to mine, feeling his warmth radiating over my body. I swallowed, wrapping my hands behind his back, pushing my fingertips into his skin. I felt his hands resting on my hips, holding my body close to his, his breath brushing across my skin. I hadn't realized he had begun to breath harder, nor did I realize I had.

I leaned up, kissing him. He pushed me down, pressing his lips to mine almost desperately. I wondered if anyone had seen him this aroused, this desperate before. The look in his eye as we pulled away told me he was suffering from a hunger. A hunger he was struggling to contain, to fight before he was given the okay.

And I was his meal.

"I want to have sex with you, Stefano," I whispered, trailing a finger down his chest. "I love you. I trust you."

"Dangerous words, my dear."

I looked into his eye. "I know."

His face darkened. He didn't bother to smile, and I felt his his hands guide my legs up by his hips. I moaned, feeling his member slide up against me, sliding against my folds. I could feel his intense gaze as my eyes close and head fall to the side.

"Do... Do you? Want to have sex?" I muttered, already feeling breathless.

He chuckled. "Yes. Yes I do, my dear."

He held onto my hip on my left side, and I could feel his fingers touching me, slipping between my folds and guiding my wetness over him.

"I will keep my promise, _bella._ " He grunted as he hovered over me. "I will be gentle, until you ask me for more."

I nodded. His fingers left my folds, and his tip slid up and down them instead. I squirmed and moaned, yearning for him to slide inside of me.

"Oh!" My eyes snapped open as he began to enter my body.

"Does it hurt?"

I turned my head, seeing him watching my face.

"N-no, I just--" my head whipped back as I felt myself stretching with him. "Ahh!"

He hesitated, and I felt my body begin to beg for more as I he stilled inside of me.

"S-Stefano!" I cried out, my hips rolling against him. "Ah, p-please..."

"Oh, I understand..." he laughed, laying down on me. "You've never been physically pleasured before."

I pressed my mouth closed, trying not to completely lose it, feeling my face shift and biting my lips. "I-I... Mmm..."

His hands tensed on my hips. " _Oh, cara mia, bellisimo._ "

I gasped, and my back arched. He chucked, resuming his gentle movement inside of me. My hands wrapped around his back, pulling him to me. His hips pressed into mine, and he hesitated. I could feel him against me, inside of me. His breathing against me, causing the slightest, barely noticeable movements inside.

I whimpered, holding him to me. "Stefano, S-Stefano..."

He growled quietly. "Rose."

I gasped, feeling my legs flinch against his sides. I swallowed, and slid my legs up and over him.

"You are in control of this, my dear." He whispered in my ear. "I will not use your body, I will give you all control if you so desire."

I dug my face into his shoulder. I breathed in his scent, feeling the ache overcome my body.

"P-please... Make love to me."

He hummed in agreement, lifting my hips and keeping his hands against them. I whimpered again as I felt him move inside of me. He slowly let himself out of me, and I was worried I had crossed the line. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, seeing Stefano staring at me with an intensity I wasn't prepared for.

He began to slide back into me, and I flinched, each movement causing me to arch my back into him. I swallowed, watching his face as he stared.

Stefano groaned, leaning his body into me, beginning to whisper words in my ear I didn't understand. I moaned quietly, feeling his body moving within me, each pull away feeling like I would wake up from this dream, each push inside feeling like heaven.

My legs twitched and I felt my body tense. I moaned and lay my head back, unable to think, unable to feel anything but him.

"Y-you can... Ah, you can go h-harder if you want..." I whispered, looking into his eye and pressing my forehead to his.

He stared at me, then held my hips up closer to his. He pressed into me roughly, causing me to cry out.

His body raised itself from mine, and I watched him put his arms on either side of my head, leaning down onto his elbows.

"It's likely going to hurt." He said quietly to me.

I let my hands trace his face, cupping his jaw, sliding behind his head and grasping his hair.

"I want it to."

I pulled him to me and kissed him.

"I want to feel pain. I want you to control my body. I want you to hurt me, to please yourself, to make you feel safe and sound."

He frowned. " _Bella Rosa._ If I hurt you, you will not want to be around me again."

I turned my head away. "Would it matter? I want you to use me, make you feel something before you finally turn me into a piece of art."

He stared, features unmoving. He lay down against me, body laying as part of mine.

"You are already my art."

He slid himself out of me, then roughly pushed himself back in.

"You are my _Rosa_."

He jerked into me again, making me moan.

"You are perfect, _cara._ Perfect."

My back arched into him as I moaned, feeling his arms wrap around me and pull me to his body. His penis sliding in and out of me consistently, unrelenting in its movements, the pleasure wracking my body.

"I knew I must have you when I saw you. You would make my crowning masterpiece."

His voice growled lowly in my ear, making me hold onto him for stability.

"But I cannot destroy your beauty. I must have it, I must have it all to myself."

I was barely able to look at him, overwhelmed with emotion, with the pleasure of him inside of me. But I saw him scowling at me at the briefest glimpses.

"Your flesh is so soft, so perfect for my creations. Your body wonderful for my sculpting and portrayal."

He lifted one of my legs, slipping it over his shoulders. I could feel him watching my reactions as he gained more access to me, making me moan as he stretched me open and began to unrelentingly fuck me.

"But I cannot capture your essence, not yet. I must have it in every form. I must have you!"

I jerked my hips, laying back in the sheets, arms resting by my head. "M-more, please, more..."

"Yes, my beauty." He pulled my other leg over his shoulder, holding my hips off the bed as he began to roughly take me. "Your wish shall be my command."

I cried out, begging for him to keep taking me. I felt his hips speed up, our bodies squelching as he turned my insides to mush.

"You are my art, _bella._ You will be my art, forever."

"Stefano!" I couldn't help it, crying out his name. "I love you! Ah, I... I love you!!"

He leaned down against me, holding my hips in place as he fucked me. "Good. Then you will be mine, forever, _cara mia_."

I felt a wave of pleasure overtake my body, all muscles clenching at once, and I moaned aloud. I felt his body tense up, feeling his arms wrap around my shoulders as my legs dropped to wrap around his back again. I could feel myself clenching against him, my body tensing relentlessly and keeping him inside. My head reeled back and I moaned loudly, crying out Stefano's name.

He kept himself in me, continuing to move as the pleasure took over, making my head swim as I held him tightly. He groaned and murmured profanities. I whimpered as I felt my head swimming, my body refusing to stop clenching around him, but slowing its throbbing to a more gentle thrum.

"We are one, _bella._ " He whispered in my ear. "We shall stay together until this world falls apart."

His hips slowed, and his body stilled within me. I held him tightly. I didn't want to let go, I didn't want him to leave me. I felt like I would wake up from this dream if he let me go.

I looked up into his eye, seeing a scar peeking through his disheveled bangs. His visible eyelid was lowered, but I could still see the stormy green and grey peering down at me. While his face didn't show any reaction, I watched his eye shift across my face, studying it, watching me as though he wouldn't see this again. His eye looked conflicted as he watched me, the slightest twitches of his face muscles being apparent, fighting showing any emotion he really feels.

He sighed, and leaned down against me. I felt my eyes flutter closed, holding him to me.

"Sleep, my dear."

He shifted with a grunt, letting me hold his shoulders as he pulled his body away from mine. I felt him exit me, and I groaned quietly. He grunted again, laying back down on me. I felt my face heat as I realized I could feel warm wetness flowing out of me.

I tucked my face into his shoulder and his neck. I looked up at him, feeling him move with me. His lips met mine, kissing me, locking them together. I shuddered, feeling it was simply a sweetness, post-sex gentle gesture.

"Th-thank you." I whispered.

"Mm..." he tucked his face into my neck, continuing to hold me to him.

I pressed my face against him again, feeling myself crash. I felt overwhelmed with tiredness, letting my head dip slightly, closing my eyes, feeling my eyelashes brush against his skin. My breathing calmed, and I felt his do so as well. My body cooled, and I snuggled against him more, he was now my only source of heat.

I was vaguely aware of Stefano slipping out of my arms and lifting my body. I felt the blankets of his bed slip out from underneath me, then he lay back down and pulled me onto him. My head tucked into his chest, and I felt the sheets of his bed lift up over my head.

Everything faded away, and I felt content as I drifted to sleep.


	9. Morning After

I woke up wrapped in soft sheets. I felt my eyes flutter open, completely covered by the blankets.

Was it all a dream?

I begin to stretch, then clench up in pain. My entire body is sore, something I'm not used to. Something I don't think I've ever felt.

I felt my face heat up, pulling an aching arm to my face. Oh christ, it wasn't a dream. God, and I made such a fool of myself.

When I stopped stewing in my own embarrassment, I grasped the bed cover and pulled it down from my head. I blinked at the light streaming in from a window. I sighed to myself, realizing I was completely alone. I don't think I could face Stefano if I tried now. I looked around the bedroom, taking in what it looked like in the morning.

I sat up slightly, each of my limbs protesting as I moved.

I looked to the edge of the bed, seeing a glass of water and a card sitting on a bedside table. I leaned over and grabbed the card, bringing it to my sitting position. It was a handwritten note, elegant cursive writing on a blank piece from a note pad. I felt myself smile. Of course he would have such beautiful handwriting.

_"Cara mia, good morning. I'm afraid I have to go out this morning because I got a call. Stay at my home as long as you need, I'll come back in a few hours. We will talk about my art when I come home. Please make sure you stay hydrated. There is some food in the kitchen if you can make it there. If not, I will care for you when I get back."_

I giggled a little. I lay back, letting my eyes flutter back closed and my body rest some more. My face heated a little again, and I thought about last night.  
  
  


\-- _P.O.V. Shift_ \--

 _This damnable woman._ I thought to myself, walking down the hallway. _She is making everything more difficult for me._

I knocked on the door to the office I had been walking to. My mind was elsewhere, keeping my eye out for inspiration, and perhaps some new materials if need be, for my work.

My mind constantly replayed how I met my current interest, how easy it seemed to make her enamoured and ensure she would trust me. She seemed entranced by me the moment we met, and it was simple to get her to open about her thoughts and get under her skin.

The office door opened, and I smiled at the woman standing before me. She smiled back, muttering an apology and gesturing for me to come in.

"I was quite grateful to receive your call this morning." I said, still thinking to myself. "I was worried we would never be able to speak again."

The head of the art department laughed slightly. Perhaps it was too early for jokes.

Rose. My mind couldn't slip away from her. She found out I was the one killing the models that I had made into art. More than anything, I wanted to know how.

She wasn't that of easy woman to get under the skin of, though I will admit our "relationship" progressed faster than any I recall being in. Most took me a long time to build, and I was surprised to hear her utter the phrase "I love you" in tandem with her understanding I was a murderer.

I was especially surprised to know she was willing to let me bed her after making that knowledge clear.

I shook the hand of both the head of the art department and the head of gallery planning. I sat down across from them, then I slid my portfolio to them again.

My newest creation, a play on Cinderella, was now in there. After Rose had fallen asleep, I processed the work. She hadn't noticed me slipping out of bed and going to develop the film. I wished for her to see it first, but she was still fast asleep in my bed.

Her dress fell to her knees, arms in a waltz without a partner. A single bit of hair extended over her mask, and a single rose sat in her fingers that pierced the skin, extending out as though to run away. Her blood spilled over her neck and over the necklace I had her wear, as though to soil the fine things she wore, turning them back to the tattered objects she wore before. Her hips were turned slightly away from the camera, feet turned in the step of the dance, body turned in the middle of a spin - something I was impressed she had managed to hold for so long. Her face - masked to hide her identity initially - was turned towards a soft light from above her. I didn't have time, and almost forgot to add, a clock face to the background of the picture, implying she had been caught at midnight during her dance, about to be revealed as nothing more than a common woman rather than an elegant creature. I had added in cascading rose petals and flowers in post, my personal favorite addition to my pieces. Perhaps it would read like a stage play to others, but to me it read a woman encased in a fairytale or story. Perhaps she has a happy ending yet.

Rose had hidden beauty that she wouldn't show. Not unless someone pushed her, of course. I was ready to completely kill her last night when I realized it wouldn't be ideal. I had to get out of her how she realized I was a serial killer, and if she had mentioned it at all to anyone, it would be bad if I were the last person she was seen with.

"This is new." said the gallery head, I believe her name was Carolinn. She pointed at the picture that held Rose in it.

I smiled. The most perfect image from the several I had taken. It was difficult to decide which one was better, as with each piece I created I always outdid myself, but this time I had changed the narrative and let her live. She wasn't the first model I let go, but she certainly was the closest I had come to killing that I allowed survive.

"Yes. A new model came to me yesterday, and we did some experimental shots." I chuckled. "I do not usually add new models to my portfolio unless they are complete professionals, but this one outdid herself."

"Do you mind telling us who she is?" The head of the art department interjected.

"Not at all. She is Rose Olian. She and I have been speaking to each other and bonding over art since the first day I came here." I kept smiling, shifting my face to read fond and almost nostalgic. "I had gotten lost while looking for your office, and she guided me via one of the downstairs maps. When I learned you weren't here just yet, I went back to the gallery to observe the latest installation and get to know her."

"Do you know where she is? She didn't report to work today. She usually checks in with both of us before she clocks in."

I felt my face fall slightly. "Ah, yes. Poor thing, she fell sick during our photo session. I had found her completely soaked in the rain before we returned to my studio. She stayed with me during the night because she was too sick to return home. She almost immediately fell asleep when I took her to my couch, so I decided she should stay the night to become well."

My mind cut to the image I had seared into my imagination. The look she had on her face as I stared down at her during sex the night before. She was scared of her emotions as I seduced her, and of whatever had occurred to her during other times she had sex. She was scared of how fast she had fallen in love with me, and I wasn't about to compromise the strange amount of trust she had given me.

Her reddened face, barely strong enough to look at me, tired arms laying above her head played in my head. The softness of her breasts pressed into me as I placed her chest against mine. Her skin, so so soft, pulling me to her as her fingertips caressed me as I made love to her.

The near melodic sound of her voice calling out my name.

If I was lucky, I would be able to seduce her again. I had almost forgotten how nice it was with someone else, how satisfying. It had been at least over a year since I had last slept with someone.

"I will make sure she calls you when I see her next." Then I made a face as though I had just realized a predicament. "I do believe I accidentally stranded her at my home. Oh dear. I will go straight there after our meeting to make sure she's safe and not too frightened."

The two women smiled in relief as I sat before them, and continued talking about my work. They discussed how worried they were about how my work would be received by the students and public, but insisted they were willing to take risks.

I suggested some of my simpler photographs be in plain view to ease the audience into the full installment. As I knew how my work was often perceived, I said, I am sure it might be ideal to catch their interest for a smoother understanding.

They discussed with me how it would be shown, what the opening and closing would be like. I suggested hanging some photos from the ceiling, implying imaginary walls, for the sense of surrealism that my work demands. We came to a finished idea for the gallery set up and atmosphere.

They seemed to like that idea. The meeting came to a close, and initially we began to leave.

As I exited, portfolio in hand, the gallery organizer, Carolinn, stopped me.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still a little worried about Rose." She said as we stood in the hallway. "Would you mind proving she's okay?"

I raised my eyebrow at her. "I can certainly try. I'm not certain how, other than ensuring she calls you."

"Can you call her? Do you have her number?"

"Ah, yes. She gave it to me on purely professional terms." I pulled my phone from my pocket. "I had almost forgotten, thank you."

The truth was I had found it in her bag, finding a number with her notebook and other supplies, in case she lost them. I'm not used to going through someone's things, but felt it was necessary to keep tabs on the woman that knows what I do.

I typed out her name and clicked the call button. I put it on speaker phone, hoping she would pick up.

After several rings, there was a click.

"Uh, hello?" Asked a very tired and struggling voice over the phone.

"Ah, good morning, _bella._ " I said into the microphone. I watched Carolinn breathe a visible sigh of relief. "We were calling to make sure you were okay. I went off to my meeting with your boss and accidentally stranded you at my home."

"'We were calling'?" She echoed.

"Yes, miss Carolinn is here too."

"Hello, Rose!" She called out over the speaker. "Are you feeling better?"

"I... yeah, sorry. I forgot I had to come in to work today, since..."

"It is okay. Take the day off, we were just worried you hadn't come in or called. If you're sick you're sick. I'll hold Mr. Valentini accountable for your wellbeing if you don't get better soon."

I chuckled intentionally, then spoke towards the receiver again. "I'll come by shortly to pick you up and take you home. Please forgive me for leaving you there, I will certainly make it up to you in the future."

"I'm going to go back to work, make sure you get well!" Carolinn said aloud, then turned down the hallway.

I clicked speakerphone off, putting the phone to my ear.

"Dont worry, it's just me now." I said quietly, making my way to the stairs.

"Why did they ask you to call me? And how did you get my number?"

"I found it in your notebook. I wanted to make sure I could keep in touch with you."

I opened the door to the stairs in front of the main office.

"As for asking about you, I added your picture to my portfolio. They seemed to enjoy it, and I outdid myself in its perfection of course. Did you get a chance to see it?"

"No? Is it in your room?"

"Ah, no. I left it with the food I made for you this morning - it's in the kitchen."

"Oh, sorry. I've had a hard time getting out of bed."

I laughed, hearing the sound echo down the stairs. "I assumed; I know what I can do to the female body."

She went silent, and I couldn't help but imagine she was stewing in her own embarrassment, face filling with that lovely red as she was overcome with emotions.

"Now, I would like to discuss how we move forward from here, _bella._ " I reached the bottom of the steps, freezing now that I knew the stairwell was empty, and seeing no cameras or sensors. "Obviously, I can't have you telling anyone about how I work, nor can I keep you there forever. If you disappear now, I'm afraid it would be the end of my artistic creations. So, I would love to hear your compromise."

She hesitated, only static emitting over the phone line.

I continued walking out the doors, leaving the stairwell and exiting the building. I saw the spot where she had kissed me, and I kissed her back in hope she would follow me back to my studio.

"I... I don't want anything from you, Stefano."

"Oh? I find that difficult to believe." A smile pursed my lips as I spoke. "Where's the drama, the tension of blackmail and waiting until one of us completely despises the other?"

She sighed. "I'm not that kind of person."

I smiled some more. "Of course not."

"Do you want me to ask you for something?"

"Perhaps. Maybe just to ensure you won't go and tell anyone too much."

She sighed over the phone. "Well... I guess the only thing I could ask for is for you to relieve me next time I'm feeling too emotional or suicidal."

"In what way?"

"... Be my boyfriend."

I stopped in my tracks. I laughed aloud, back arching as I let out the strongest belly laugh I'd had in years. I almost missed her next statement as I kept walking.

"--or friends with benefits."

"I'll tell you what, we can have a compromise." I smiled to myself as I walked up some stairs and to my car. "When you are feeling down, I'll comfort you. Perhaps act as your lover if you need. If you are feeling like hurting yourself, I shall use you as my model and create marvelous art with you in it. When I begin to lose interest, then I will turn you into a complete masterpiece. In turn, you stay by my side as my lover or girlfriend and don't tell anyone what you know. I can be affectionate to you when you need, but I'm not the stable relationship type, my dear."

"I... Okay. I'll do it."

I chuckled. "Then I'll be by to come care for you, _cara mia._ Make sure you are ready for me."


	10. Faded Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano comes home and finds Rose admiring his newest picture. However, once he has time to himself he is remind him too much of a familiar woman. Sometimes words sting much deeper than any weapon ever could.
> 
> (Minor character death in this chapter. Stefano goes through a dissociative episode and has difficulty coming back out of it.)

I drove up to my house, listening to my car shut off as I undid my seat belt. I looked towards my home, then opened the door to my car to begin walking to it. I pulled out my keys from my pocket, hearing their familiar jingle and inserting them into the lock. The familiar click of the deadbolt slide and unlocking, allowing my entrance to the building.

When I opened the door I saw Rose sitting at the island in my kitchen. She had been hunched over the counter, looking down at something. She was wearing the white dress from the photo shoot last night. The back wasn't completely zipped up, but the zipper was about two-thirds of the way to the top. When she heard me enter, she turned around and looked at me. Her shoulders were slightly shaky as she turned, showing me she wouldn't be able to pose for a few days.

She smiled slightly at me as I walked forward, setting my portfolio down beside her and taking a seat next to her. I glanced at the items laying before Rose, mostly unchanged from what I had left on the counter that morning. The coffee I had left her, as well as the plate of eggs and toast were completely gone and moved out of her way. The second-best proof I had left on the counter for her to see was laying in front of her.

Rose was hunched over the photograph, staring at it. I wondered how long she had been looking at it, it had probably taken me half an hour to arrive home once our phone call had ended. I felt a smile stretch across my face, unable to keep some excitement showing through my normal facade.

"How long did it take you to make it out of the bedroom?" I mused, watching as she turned her head slightly from me.

"I... I barely moved all day."

I chuckled. "So I heard. Was it difficult to retrieve your phone?"

"Yeah... It was across the room."

"I know." I reached for her, grasping a small clump of her hair and beginning to play with it. "What are your thoughts on your photo?"

She looked at me, turning with a slight stutter to her movements. I fought myself against the pure pride rushing through me, knowing her aching pains were because of me.

"This is a picture of me?"

I smiled a little wider. "Of course it is, my dear."

"It's so. . ." Rose turned away and continued looking at the photograph of herself.

I twirled the small tuft of hair with my fingers, letting my eye trace over the messy hair still full of gel. I watched it bend and shift with my gloved hand. "It's so what?"

"Well..." She sighed. "It's so... Elegant."

I blinked at her, not willing to coax her further. I already know she'll tell me her feelings.

"The soft lighting, the sharp contrast..." I watched her visibly swallow. "Just the dynamic of the whole picture is amazing."

Her neck began to turn a scarlet color. I watched her lift a hand to the scabs from the night before, a finger slightly tracing the dried blood and wound.

"How you turned someone like me into this..." She hesitated. "Sorry, I don't know."

"You do know, _cara._ " I said lowly. "Tell me your mind."

She glanced towards me. She blinked, then shook her head slightly, pulling the hair I had been playing with out of my grasp.

"I... I'm not exactly an attractive woman," she sighed. "Not knocking your tastes, but I just don't get why you became interested in me... How you turned me into such a wonderful picture, it's almost so surreal. I don't think I deserve this kind of treatment."

I chuckled. "And why do you believe you don't deserve it?"

She didn't answer. She turned back to the picture, making my smile drop since she seemed to ignore my question.

I raised myself from my seat, turning and walking away from where she was sitting. "Miss Rose, you should clean yourself. You are still covered in your blood from last night."

She didn't answer as I walked to my bathroom. I began to draw her a bath, knowing she would likely expect it. If she didn't expect it, at least it would help her trust me more, or make her more inclined to feel indebted to me.

While the water was running and filling the tub, I walked back out, seeing her shaking body beginning to walk towards the door. I sighed, walking towards her. I stood by her side, pulling her arm behind my back and securing it with my arm. I held her up by her shoulders as I wrapped my arm under her free one. I guided her to my bathroom, making a mental tally of the time that had passed since I had run the water.

I left her in the bathroom, walking into my studio. I pulled my tie off, sighing to myself and allowing my mental mask to falter, beginning to undo the top two buttons to my shirt.

I knew I didn't need to put on an act around her, since I had allowed her to briefly see underneath it last night. I suppose I'm still used to using my friendly act on everyone and having securely put myself into that mindset earlier in the day.

I went back to my desk, situated perfectly behind the couch that faced the open area meant for photographs. I saw the spread of photos I had developed this morning. I sat down, letting my fingers glide over the light-sensitive paper. I had experimented with various techniques to portray my photos, but I had such a preference for the original development of photos. There was something so organic, so personable to develop them in a dark room and watch them come to life in the various chemical baths.

I gather the pictures, tapping them together, and leaning down to open a drawer. I slipped the photographs into the drawer, eyes glancing over the other pictures I've developed of my previous projects.

A tattered necklace catches my eye, the sound of the beads rolling as the drawer always drawing my attention. I could feel my body slip away from me. A memory settling into my head, the feeling of my hands reaching for the necklace pieces.

My mind flickered over the white dress Rose had been wearing. My mind couldn't help but flash between a familiar blue dress of similar make. I shook my head, trying to avoid my inevitable fate.

Rose's short hair grew into a small bun before me, tucked perfectly as it always was, face slightly slimmer before me. She became slightly shorter and stood before me, avoiding my eye. A foreign look in her eyes, so similar to when she had visited me in the hospital.

_"I'm sorry, Stefano. . ." she whispered to me. "But you've been absent from my life, so I. . ."_

_"What? But we've known each other for so long!"_

_"I know, but things are different. You're... different." She turned away, tucking her hair behind her ear, the most common thing she does when she's stressed._

_"And what's that supposed to mean? You promised me you'd wait!"_

_"And I have! I still **am** waiting for you. You aren't the Stefano I grew up with!"_

_"Really? How in the world does that make sense?!"_

_"You aren't you! There's something..."_

I was vaguely aware of the cold metal and large green gem pressing against my lips. But it was so far away, it wasn't enough to pull me out of my memories.

_"Something what? Just say what you mean, dammit!"_

_"There's something wrong with you! You aren't normal anymore."_

_"That's rich. I come back home to find my family gone, and now you're leaving me too?"  
_

_A stinging sensation grew across my face as her hand struck me.  
_

_"How dare you! You left me long before tonight! You left me so many years ago!"  
_

I lifted a hand to my face, feeling it too real, and beginning to act out my memory.

_"Do you think I had a choice?!" I snapped back after realizing what she had done. "Do you think I was given a choice, a real and proper choice to stay here or go to war?"_

_"Yes! You always have a choice."_

"Stefano?"

_"You could have come back after your first installment!"_

I turned to her. _"What do you mean, 'first installment?' I wasn't allowed to go home unless I actually engaged in combat or was dismissed!"_

_"That's not how anything works, Stefano!"  
_

She approached me, something in the back of my head saying it wasn't correct.

_"You of all people should have understood me, Emily!"_

"Stefano...? Are... Are you okay?"

My eyes flickered up at the woman before me.

_"Wh-what... What are you doing with that--?!"_

_"You shouldn't say such things to me!"_

_"Stop it, let me go!"_

_"No, you will listen to me! You are just like the rest of them, all of them. How dare you! How dare you treat me like this!"_

I felt a hand slip into mine. I grasped it roughly, hearing an unfamiliar voice cry out. "Ow!"

_"You should know better! You are mine! You swore to me that no one else would portray your essence! Your beauty is mine to behold!"_

_She didn't say anything after that, and I could feel my arm moving as I had roughly slit her throat, grasping her chin in my right hand, seeing her blood run over her blue dress. I let go in surprise, backing away from the now lifeless body. I watched her collapse on the floor, the sound of nothing being within her reverberating in the room. I sucked in some air, allowing myself a moment of calm to settle around me. It was now quiet, and I didn't have to listen to her shouting at me._

_I quickly got to work, trying to make sure I could portray her the way she deserved before her body went to waste. I looked down at her, seeing the roses I had bought for her scattered across the ground. I saw her hand outstretched towards one of them, her blood beginning to flow across the wooden flooring. Even when I have killed her, I couldn't help but create the most beautiful image. I grabbed my camera, getting down low to capture it up close. Even when she's gone, her afterglow is so invigorating..._

"Stefano!"

I blinked my eye. That wasn't right, she wasn't here. She shouldn't be able to talk.

A woman in a towel and dark, wet hair was standing in front of me. I could see her reaching out to me as I felt myself settle in my skin. I could eventually feel the grasp of her hands on my shoulders.

I instantly felt exhausted once I was secure in my body. I could feel the present beginning to come back to me, realizing I had been reliving one of my more stressing memories.

"Good afternoon." I said quietly.

"A-are you okay?"

I reached for her, grabbing her arms by her shoulders, pulling her to me. Rose faltered, her still aching body sliding on top of mine. I let out a shuddering sigh, fitting her torso against mine, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tightly.

"Were you sitting there the entire time? It's been at least an hour."

I tucked my head into her soft, still damp skin, and closing my eye. I swallowed, feeling my Adam's apple brushing against her. I anchored myself to reality, forcing myself to stay in the now.

If she is what I need to keep from being lost in the past, then so be it. I will keep her with me until I no longer need her.

"Don't leave me." I whispered.

She hesitated. Rose's arms slid behind my shoulders slowly. I could feel fear beginning to pulse through her, her pulse quickening under my touch. She held me, almost as though I had asked her to.

My grip lessened on her. I pulled away from her, looking into her dark chocolate colored eyes. She leaned to me, pressing her lips to mine. I let my eye close and fit mine against hers. Rose is here now. I did not need to remember anyone anymore. I did not need to try to charm anyone now. Perhaps just for my newest sculptures, I'm sure it might be necessary.

"I'll stay with you, Stefano." she muttered when she pulled away from my lips.

"Really?"

"Yes. Yes, I promise."

"Do not leave me, _bella_." I sighed, allowing myself to trace her face with one of my fingers.

She knew I meant what I said. She would be with me, until the world forgets my name. I can promise her that once I am revered as the artist I am.

"You will stay with me, forever."


	11. Invitation

_-Rose P.O.V.-_

I sat alone in my painting class. Carolinn had run off to meet another instructor, and most of the students had left early today. I flicked through some videos on my phone, trying to find something to paint to. I wasn't feeling like painting today, but I needed to get something done before the day ended.

I looked up at my painting of a portrait. It was a woman with green hair, horns, a seemingly underwater scene, eyes completely obscured by her hair. I was supposed to create a series before the semester ended, and while that was still a long time away, I was stressing at what my artistic vision really was. I always painted female women in surreal environments, but I didn't have a statement to make.

It had been several days since I had stayed with Stefano. I felt my heart flutter slightly as my mind turned back to him. I couldn't keep my mind off of him, especially since I've come to terms with how I feel about him.

Even though he's a serial killer, I still love him.

I shuddered, thinking to myself, thinking about the situation I've put myself in. My mind couldn't help but compare him to the other boyfriends I've been with. He's so much better than them, but I'm sure other people's opinions would say differently if they knew what he did to his models.

 _Should I go to the police?_ I gulped slightly. If I go to the police, what would that make me? What would he do to me? Am I an accomplice to what he does?

The day I went home with him was one of my worst bouts of depression in several weeks. I had been doing a little better until then, but when I woke up that day I just didn't feel well at all. I knew anything going wrong at all would send me into a spiral, but once I was faced with trying to save face over someone I was beginning to fall for absolutely destroyed me.

To be honest, remembering it now I don't feel well again. I bit my own tongue, swallowing whatever bile was trying to rise through my throat.

I looked down at my phone, seeing it had shut off. I slid my finger over the home key to unlock with my fingerprint. It opened on my YouTube feed, and began to scroll through it again. I should never let myself be alone with my thoughts, they're so pessimistic and dangerous.

I clicked on a random video and turned my mind back to my painting. I took a breath and picked up a brush. I slid the strands through some of the paint on my pallet, and began to work on the background of the painting, focusing on an air bubbles.

I haven't really talked to Stefano since he took me home a few days ago. He and I texted each other every once in a while. I sent him the odd "How are you doing?" once or twice and only received "Pretty okay." in response. It felt a little awkward since we had only known each other for a very short time, we had only talk at most for two hours before I had gone to his home.

"Ah, shit." I muttered. I had made too rough of a stroke, leaving a large white line across the painting.

I picked up my rag and started to try and lift as much of the paint off the canvas as possible. I sighed. This painting isn't working very well.

My mind floated to my last boyfriend. I shuddered at the thought, a man named Ryan. I don't like to think about him very much. Sometimes my memories start to take over and play on their own while I'm working.

I tried to tune into the video that was playing, a comedy bit that was joking about the news. My thoughts played in the background, my conscious efforts to force them down almost failing.

He was the first person I had slept with. I didn't want to, and I don't know why I stayed with him after he had hurt me. His actions had gone downhill since the first few dates. Once he had become even more abusive, I finally had the gall to leave.

What didn't help my attempts to heal was that he still went to school with me. He had a few classes with me every once in a while, and even though he and I hadn't been in a relationship for at least a year and a half. When he had managed to be alone with me, Ryan would always joke about what he had done, sometimes saying I had overreacted and broken his heart. He wanted to be alone with me, even if it had been a year and a half since I had broken things off with him. If I could in those situations, I would leave the room, or run away as fast as I could.

I sprung up from my seat, ripping out my head phones and throwing my paintbrush into the water container. I sprinted across the room, grabbing onto a garbage can. I threw up my lunch, coughing as my body physically reacted to my thought process. I stood there for a little while, trying to reform my thoughts and ignore the taste of my own stomach acid.

With a shuddering sigh, I went to the art sink and began running the water. I rinsed out my mouth, gargling the water several times. I walked over to Carolinn's water kettle and grabbing a non-art glass. I poured some of the sterile water into the cup and drank it slowly. I allowed myself some time to breathe and think. It's okay now. What happened is all in the past, after all. I don't need to stress on what happened nearly two years ago, right?

I swallowed again, closing my eyes and sipping on the water. I don't have good taste in men. Most of who I've fallen in love with are people that need to be "fixed" in society's eyes, or just need someone to help them reform their thoughts. Even if they can't be fixed.

The door to the large painting room opened, and I opened my eyes. I watched someone enter, and realized it was Stefano. He looked at me as he entered, the door shutting behind him.

"Good evening, Rose." he said as he began to walk towards me.

 _Speak of the devil._ I thought.

"Hi." I said, turning and setting the glass I had been drinking from on the counter behind me.

I stood up straight as he reached me. He had a slight smile across his face as he stopped walking, beginning to lean against the counter next to me. He leaned forward, sliding a hand behind my head and pulling me to him. He pressed his lips to my forehead, making me lean forward and grab onto his jacket for stability.

"You look a little pale, my dear." he chuckled. "And your head feels rather warm. Are you really getting sick?"

I sighed. "Maybe. I just puked in the garbage, so that's not too bad of a guess."

He hummed slightly, and kissed my forehead again. "Would you like me to take you home?"

"No, I'll be okay to get home on my own."

He chuckled, pulling away from me. He folded his arms loosely over his chest.

"Were you looking for Carolinn?"

"Yes, but I can wait until her return."

"Well, I hope you don't mind waiting, I think she's been gone for at least an hour."

"Have you been alone for that long?"

I shook my head, the small movement causing another feeling of nausea and vertigo. "Not really. There were some students that were painting in here too, but all of them eventually left. I was just going to stay until the last bus."

He nodded in understanding. "So is that your painting on the easel?"

"Yeah."

He chuckled. I leaned my head against him, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the sick feeling beginning to branch through me. I felt a little more comfortable around him, oddly, since I had gotten to know him. I felt him slide an arm around my back, pulling me into his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat. It was odd how real he felt; talking to him always gave me a sense of fiction, like he wasn't really there, as though he was almost too perfect to exist. When he let me touch him, it felt so strange since he wasn't fictive.

"Does it bother you?" I whispered.

"Does what bother me?" His voice reverberated through my head as he spoke, chest moving as he breathed. I could feel his hand slide into my hair, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

"How I feel about you." I rubbed my head into his chest. "I... I just can't help but feel it's like a burden for you to deal with."

He laughed deeply. His entire frame shook as he laughed loudly, and I could feel his head lean back.

"No." He leaned forward, and I felt his face press into my hair. "It doesn't bother me. You have not reacted the way most people would. You admire my work and do not overburden me with your affection. You attempt to be kind and communicate with me, so it does not bother me at all."

I nodded slightly. "Th-thank you."

I felt safe in Stefano's arms. It was odd, since I should know better. But since I just couldn't bring myself to care about my life, being with someone who seemed to, even if he was pretending, felt much better than the alternative.

"Ah, I've almost forgotten." He dropped his hand from my hair, making me back up and look at him. "The gallery went through, and they finally accepted my work to show."

I smiled. "Oh, that's fantastic!"

He looked away from me, looking around the room. "Mmm, I really hope this time it's received well. The past few times I'm afraid it's been judged by people with simple minds. They can't see the work I create the way they should."

I giggled slightly, pressing my head back against his chest. He raised his hand and began petting my hair. I liked the sensation of being so close to him. It was nice being able to trust someone like this, standing against him and not having my touch aversion kick in.

"Will you come to the opening of the gallery?"

I looked up into his eye. "Well, I think I'm expected to, so I can listen to you speak and get as much information on the gallery that I can."

He laughed slightly. "Yes, but that is not what I meant. I meant as my plus one."

I cocked my head. "Well, it's not really a formal event, I think, but... Me...?"

"Yes, _bella._ Of course I am asking you."

"Well, yes. I'd love to go with you."

He smirked down at me, then lifted his hand from my head. I felt one of his fingers drag across my face, making another shudder race down my spine.

"I'm rather curious, did you really mean it, when you said you loved me?"

I blinked up at him. I turned my gaze away from him, feeling embarrassed that he would bring it up now. He pulled my face back up towards him, but I couldn't look at him as I felt my face heat up.

"Well, Rose? I am waiting for an answer."

I closed my eyes, trying to form a response. I only really said it when we had sex together, so I don't know how to say it without being completely flustered.

"Y-yes, I... I did mean it."

"Mmm..." He hummed, leaning forward and placing his mouth by me ear, grasping onto one of my hands. "You should say it."

I swallowed, heart beginning to ache, hiding my head in his shoulder. "I..."

He chuckled. "How did you feel love so fast, my dear?"

I shook my head. "I don't know... You were just so charming, and... Kind, I think... I don't know, you were different to some I might have felt love for..."

"Well, if you do feel it, you should say it. Don't be afraid..."

"I... I..."

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

I had asked Rose to tell me how she felt about me. I held her tightly to me. She is my newest project, and I'm sure it would be so easy to use her like a simple object.

"Don't be afraid, my dear." I pressed my lips against her ear.

She stuttered again. There was fear coming off her in waves. She must have been thinking too much about something before I came to her, and she wasn't willing to tell me just yet. I had a hunch, given the hint she had said when I seduced her. It seems she has been unlucky in her partners. Perhaps I can be the proper example as her lover, as there cannot be anyone better, naturally.

My eye flickered up to the door I had entered a few moments before. A window on the door allowed me to see into the hallway partially. There was a man standing outside, staring in at us. I'm certain he can't see me looking at him due to the way my face is tucked against her.

I slid my free arm around her, keeping my left hand in her hair. She mimicked me, sliding her arms around my torso.

The man outside the door I had seen a few times around the arts building. Usually he was situated on the bench outside the gallery, like he was when I had first come in for my meeting. However, I seem to only see him when she is around. I never payed it too much mind, but now I can see it's not coincidence.

"I... I l-love you, Stefano..." she whispered.

"Good." I muttered in her ear. "I want you to remember that, to not forget that."

"I don't think I can..."

"I'm not saying you would ever be able to. I'm saying that I do not want you to forget it, love."

I felt her eyelashes flutter against my neck. I pressed my head against hers. Letting myself glance up, I could see that man still. He was scowling, pure rage encasing his face as he watched us. I did not care who he was, nor did I care what his connection to Rose was.

I was furious that he might be what holds her back from me. If I find that he is the one that has made my newest art piece so terrified of feeling anything, there is nothing on this world that will keep him safe.

"My dear, you don't need to worry." I whispered in her ear. "I will keep you safe. You are my art, so I shall protect you from the world."

She made a sound that resembled a whimper. I could almost feel her heart beginning to burst inside her chest, pounding against my own. She knew this was the closest I could give her that remotely resembled love, but for now it will have to do. Perhaps she was correct, our relationship had progressed far too quickly. But as she is my creation, one that still needs a lot of work until she is perfect, I will continue to help her make steps towards that goal.

She will be safe from this world. She will be safe from whoever is still beyond that door. And she will be safe from the harsh, cold reality that she has been faced with until now.


	12. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano helps Rose get ready for the opening night of his gallery.

" _Bella,_ you must decide on a dress."

I looked over at Stefano, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed. He was frowning at me since I had been taking too much time making a decision. I looked down at the two dresses he had pulled out for me; an emerald green dress that fell to the floor, or a navy blue dress that reached my knees and looked almost black depending on how it caught the light. These two were the ones he had pulled out after spending several minutes himself going through his closet in his studio.

I cringed slightly. "Well, they're just... Well, so much more elegant than what I'm used to."

"That _is_ the point."

I picked up the green dress, seeing it shift in the lighting. It was soft, almost gentle under my touch. It had a deep v-neck on it, and I wondered how I would wear a bra with it. I looked it over, seeing small threaded details embedded in the belt section of the fabric, a white metal clasp holding the folds of the dress at the center of the chest. I ran my finger over the pointed sleeves, admiring the delicacy of the fabric.

_Is this even meant to be worn with a bra?_

"Maybe this one?" I turned and looked towards Stefano again.

He nodded to me. "Either one will do, that's why I pulled them both out."

I swallowed, and began to undo the zipper on the back of it. Stefano got off of his bed and walked out of the room to give me some privacy. I slipped off my clothes after the door had closed, removing my bra along with my pants and shirt. I slipped the dress over my shoulders, taking the clasps and hooking them together by my neck. I pulled the zipper back up, this one being much simpler to glide up than the white dress I struggled with the first night I was here.

I adjusted my sleeves, the fabric reaching over the back of my hands. I straightened the skirt, releasing the folds that had bunched up as I pulled it on. I looked down at the chest, trying to pull the v-neck up a little bit.

I gulped. Maybe agreeing to go with Stefano to his gallery opening wasn't the best idea. I'd been to so many of these openings, at least at our gallery, and usually it's not so formal. I didn't really want so many people to focus on me, and they surely would if I went in either of the dresses.

I walked out of Stefano's room, seeing him sitting on his couch, looking through his portfolio. He glanced up at me, then closed his portfolio to set it down next to himself. He gestured me to come to him, and I complied. I tentatively walked to him, focusing on not tripping on the floor-length skirt. I held it up slightly as I walked forward.

I sat down next to him, playing with the wrinkles on my lap, trying to smooth out the fabric. I swallowed as he reached for me. He grasped my chin and pulled my face to him. He smiled slightly at me.

"It suits you well, Rose." He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Now, I must apply the finishing touches, my dear."

I nodded, then spun around to face away from him. He sat closer to me, sliding me backwards towards him. He carefully massaged my shoulders, trying to help me release the tension I was carrying, causing me to shudder a little.

"Relax, _bella._ " he whispered. "You will be beautiful a little faster if you let yourself relax."

I nodded, forcing my shoulders down, taking a few breaths. I let myself think over the past week. It was the Thursday after Stefano's gallery had been confirmed. I had been in the gallery taking down the latest installment and hanging his work in place. It's been more difficult than most galleries since some of the frames were hanging from the ceiling, which isn't something I had seen from how long I had been in college.

He reached forward and slipped a necklace across my collarbone, the chilling metal startling me at first. It was the same one that he had put on me when he used me for his photographs. I felt his leather gloves fiddling with the clasp to secure it around my neck. Once it clicked and let go, it drooped to settle in the valley of my breasts.

Once he had let go of my necklace, I felt his hands reach through my hair. He hummed slightly, grasping slightly as I felt him begin to run a comb through the strands. I closed my eyes, focusing on his movements as he combed out my hair back and away from my face.

He turned me to look at him, pulling a few strands forward. He slipped off his gloves and opened the hair gel that was sitting next to him. He took some hair that hung over my face, curling it in his fingers, and holding it slightly so it would hold it's shape. He repeated that process on the other side, creating two symmetrical strands that framed either side of my face. He turned me away, combing out my remaining hair and gelling it back towards him.

"What are you going to talk about?" I said quietly, trying to make small talk and fill the silence.

"I have some ideas. Perhaps just a small speech about how I came into my vision."

I nodded slightly, making sure not to mess up what he was doing. When he was done styling my hair, he stood up and grabbed what he had been using. He walked away and disappeared into his bathroom. He walked back into his studio, holding a small black tray.

Stefano sat down in his spot again, and I turned towards him. I saw it was a box of make-up, something I was surprised he had. He must have noticed my expression and chuckled a little.

"You seem to forget that I help people portray themselves in the best of ways." He said while continuing to chuckle.

I sat still and closed my eyes, hearing the makeup pallet pop open. I heard Stefano move around and mess with the pallet and brushes. I flinched as I felt a brush go over my eyes, tapping on my lid a little bit. My reaction enticed another slight laugh from him, making him hold my face to keep me still. I felt him carefully applying blush and lipstick to me once he had finished with my eyes. I could feel him framing my face, tracing my cheekbones and pulling the rouge down towards my chin. The brush applying my lipstick tickled and made me want to scratch at my lips, making it difficult for me to sit still.

"There, that is... perfection." Stefano finally said, brush moving away, moving my face around with the hand gripping my chin.

I opened my eyes, feeling them flutter as I realized he sounded breathless. He stared at me with his usual smile, then leaned forward again, pressing his lips to my temple.

"Tch, I have forgotten one thing." He turned and pulled out some mascara.

I tilted my head, no longer able to close my eyes and ignore his closeness to me.

"Isn't dressing up like this a bit much?" I said, now that my mouth was free to move.

"No, of course not." Stefano scoffed at my question. "Perhaps you are not used to such theatrics, but if you are going to be my significant other, then I'm afraid you'll have to learn to present yourself in a more..."

He pulled away, turning his wrist holding the mascara wand in mid-air. He tutted slightly, looking to the side. He mumbled something in his native language, rambling to himself and trying to find the word he was trying to use. This was something I was getting used to him doing now, since we've been speaking to each other on a near daily basis now.

"Dammit, I'm afraid the phrase is escaping me, my dear."

"It's okay."

He sighed and leaned forward. He continued working on my eyelashes, gently brushing them with the wand.

"I'll help you stop pulling on these, since I've seen you pull on them a lot."

"They grow into my eyes a lot."

"Even so, you pull your eyes out a little too much."

"Eyes?"

"'Scuze me, eyelashes."

I giggled, and held as still as possible. He moved from my right eye to my left, and kept my eye focused on a spot to my right. I let my thoughts wander, listening to my own breathing and seeing his chest barely moving, as though he wasn't breathing himself.

"Though, I do have a question." I said quietly.

He hummed out while he was concentrating, showing he was listening.

"Why did you decide to let me live, anyway? And why did you want to keep me safe?"

He shrugged. He capped the mascara, twisting it slightly, then pulling it back out. "To be completely clear, initially I wanted to get rid of you that first night. I didn't believe that would be ideal, given your bosses were very concerned for you."

He took the wand away from my eye, and capped it again. He sighed slightly, I suppose he really hadn't been breathing properly while applying the makeup to my face.

"Given you didn't want to give me away, and given you seemed willing to do as I asked, well..." he laughed to himself. "It was nice to have the company of someone who truly appreciated me and my art."

He stood up, gathering the supplies he had used. I followed and stood up as well as he turned to walk back into the bathroom.

"However, I have had the thoughts of finishing my most recent project, but until now I still don't think that would be ideal. You... Appreciate my work, and you do not simply attempt to agree to keep yourself safe."

I watched him begin to put things away in the cabinets, casting me a sly look as he watched me.

"My dear Rose," he chuckled as he spoke, "I hate cowards. I hate people who attempt to mask their true feelings, their true thoughts. It is something I see too much in my trade, so you are quite refreshing to encounter."

Stefano stood up straight, bangs becoming a little disheveled as a dark look crossed his face. He walked towards me, and a small flicker of fear crossed me, spooking me enough to take a step back. His eye narrowed at me, a cruel look I had only seen once so far crossing his face, making me freeze.

I swallowed slightly as he reached me, the click of his shoes silencing against the tile of the bathroom. He chuckled lowly.

"Oh, my beautiful muse..." he sighed, raising a finger and brushing my cheek. "I love the pure expressions of fear you show me."

I shuddered, and leaned into his touch. I knew that wasn't smart, and I knew that was my cue to run. This was a dangerous man, a serial killer, and I should do what anyone rational person should do; getting away as far and fast as possible. But I pushed down that thought, breaking away from my usual impulsive decisions.

"There, that is the perfect image. Do not move, my dear."

He brushed past me, quickly moving out of the bathroom. I almost turned to see what he was doing, but I knew he was simply getting his camera.

"Perfect, _bella._ " he said as he approached me again. "You always listen to me."

He angled my head, and I leaned into his touch again. I could see a manic smile in my peripheral vision. He occasionally lifted my chin with his fingers, snapping photographs of me as I stood before him.

He chuckled as he lowered his camera. He leaned forward, planting a kiss on my head again.

"Wonderful, my beauty." he whispered against my head. "You always do wonderfully."

His praise fell on deaf ears. Whenever he said something nice to me, I knew it wasn't really to me but to the image he had of me. His praises were usually gentle physical touches and verbal encouragement.

He pulled away and brushed passed me again. I turned to follow him, then walked into his living room.

"Do you need me to do anything else to get ready?"

"Just shoes, but I'm sure you can manage that alone." He chuckled as he disappeared into his room.

I sat down on a couch in the living room, seeing the high heels he had chosen for me. I gulped a little, knowing that I wasn't very experienced wearing them. I've had a few different occurrences of wearing heels, and these weren't even the tallest I've ever worn. My ankles usually hurt after a while, and if I wear them for too long my legs feel completely sore the day afterwards.

I slipped on the heels as I sit there on the couch. I know our relationship was likely going to go downhill eventually, especially since this is technically our first night out together. Our first night out as a couple - if we could even be considered a couple - and he pretty much decides how I'll be presented by his side. He's a little more controlling than I think I was expecting, but I don't think I mind it too much.

In a rational perspective, I suppose I can understand. If it's like he said, he wants someone really perfect to be by his side. Obviously I'm not perfect, no one really is. I sigh a little bit to myself, fastening the heels to my ankles.

I sat up on the couch, then stood up from my spot. I walked around the couch for a moment, just trying to get my legs to adjust to walking and letting my mind adjust to becoming a few inches taller. Once I had given myself a moment to adjust, I sat back down. My head had begun spinning given it had been a while since I had worn heels at all.

Ugh, I've been feeling sick a lot more lately. It's so frustrating, since my midterms are coming up soon. I can't really afford to miss any classes or any assignments.

I slid a finger to my temple, shaking my head. I swallowed down my spit and did my best to breathe deeply. I can get through the evening, then I can simply let myself rest.

The studio door clicks open, making me look up. Stefano walks through the door, looking as dapper and sharp as ever. He walks towards me with a near blank face, but a triumphant smirk peaking through his facade. I guessed, though I had seen it a few times now, his getting ready was how he prepared to face the outside world.

"Are you feeling okay, my dear?" he says, something else caught in his throat as though he had stopped himself from saying something else.

I laughed slightly. "Yeah, just got a little dizzy. I'll be alright, I won't spoil your night."

He laughed along with me, a sound I now understand is fake. "I am not worried about you ruining it. Your beauty has already perfected tonight, and your admiration has already made me excited."

He approached me, and held out his hand. I fit mine in his, and I could feel his grip tighten around mine. It wasn't as bone-crushing as the afternoon after I stayed over, but it strangely felt possessive as he pulled me closer to his body and wrapped his arm around me. He laughed as I bumped into him, surprised by his actions.

"Come, let us enchant all of them, tonight will be legendary!"


	13. The Gallery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano and Rose go to the gallery opening, and Stefano is faced with his own emotions for Rose in public.

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

I drove my car down the road, off to the college that was hosting my work. Rose sat next to me in the passenger seat, and a small smile crossed my face. The sun was beginning to set, so the golden soft light caused a halo to seemingly appear around her. We will both knock them out tonight. My art will entrance them, and the audience will become completely taken by my newest muse and myself.

A small impulsive flicker crossed my mind. With how close she had felt with me, a strange feeling began to make me want to draw closer to her as well. For now, she is my Calliope, but she is not someone I should let my guard down with.

And yet, I could feel that impulse, itching under my skin. I glanced over at her frozen form, not a simple task given she was to my right, hands placed on her knees and folded into fists. She was breathing deeply, and her eyelids fluttered as she blinked from time to time. I couldn't keep my gaze towards her for too long as I had to watch the road.

A part of me desired her, to have another night in bed with her. Our first night occurred very quickly, and since then I have had a small ache to try it again. However, I know better than to think that's the reason I'm keeping her around.

I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. "Glamorous!"

Rose jumped in her seat, turning to look at me.

"Excuse me, the word I was struggling with earlier was 'glamorous.' I just remembered it now."

A smile branched across her face, and she giggled, sitting back in her seat.

I felt my eye flicker back to her. It traced down her throat and over the folds of her dress, and back up to her styled hair and painted face. I bit my lip slightly, a small amount of anxiety beginning to set in, the same type I feel before going to the opening of all my galleries.

A flicker of wanting to touch her came over me again. While watching the road, I slid my hand off the steering wheel and over the center console. I reached into her lap and grabbed onto one of her hands. I felt her shift in her seat and turn towards me.

"Stefano--...?" She began. Then she silenced herself and sat back.

Her fingers threaded through mine, grasping onto my hand. I pulled it back over the console so my arm wasn't stretched too much. I didn't feel much of anything, mentally, the anxious feeling dampening. Strangely, feeling the warmth of her hand radiate through the leather of my gloves was rather comforting. I slid my thumb against her hand, trying to send a silent _thank you_ message to her.

Something strange about this woman was that she makes me feel rather... happy. Perhaps it's because she is the first person to verbally praise my work, or because she did not try to run from me when she found out my techniques. A part of me wants to praise her, to keep her around me to continue hearing her worship my art.

But praise her for what? I haven't seen much from her, or learned much about her aside from what she's studying in school.

If I believed I could fall in love, I'd say she was a woman after my heart. She's studying the arts in college and has explained how she wants to go on to a formal arts college. She showed me some of her portfolios when she was comfortable enough over this past weekend.

She still needed a trained eye, but her starting photography portfolio wasn't the worst I had seen. She understood the basics, and especially knew enough to appreciate the work of traditional darkroom photography. Her face had turned red when I went through it and found the pile of rejects in the back of the folder.

She had a passion for the 2D arts. She had tried her hand at sculpture and ceramics, but explained she didn't believe she was gifted in that. Even I had to admit her attention to detail was inspiring. She had a love for surrealism, not unlike mine. She voiced her frustrations that she just wanted to make what she believed to be beautiful, and that all everyone asks is just about the message her work is about.

When she told me that, in the moment I was sure I had never mentally understood anyone before then. Before I knew it, I grabbed her by her shoulders and kissed her, giving into an impulse I never expected I'd want from her. I didn't realize I hadn't kissed her first because I wanted to until after I pulled away. In the moment, it felt like I had found someone that truly understood. She wasn't like me, but she understood what it was like to be rejected simply for a vision of beauty, and the portrayal rather than the message being missed entirely.

"What do you want me to refer to you as?" Rose spoke up, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Like... It's the first time we'll be out in public as, well, a couple... So I was wondering if you want me to call you my boyfriend, my significant other, something like that?"

I pulled down a side road, passing the sign declaring we were entering the college campus. I thought to myself for a moment, keeping my mind on the road in front of us, seeing the lights of the arts building still illuminated.

"Hmm..." I mused, coaxing the idea from my head. "I hadn't given that enough thought. I suppose, for now, you can refer to me as your boyfriend."

She nodded slightly, releasing my hand as we pulled into a parking spot. The car shut off, silent, and a light flicked on above us as I opened my door. I let myself out of the car, quickly walking around to help her out of her seat.

I opened her door and offered her my hand. She slung a small handbag I had loaned her over her shoulder, taking my hand and lifted herself out of the seat. She looked properly elegant, as though going to an evening party. She was only missing a small champagne glass and the low lighting.

She leaned into me, holding onto my hand as we began walking towards the arts building. "You know, it is usually a lot more casual than this." she tried explaining for the eighth time.

"So you've said, but I never take chances with my galleries. I always present myself in a more-than-casual manner."

She leaned her head against my shoulder briefly. The heels I had chosen for her made her the same height as me, making her crane her head to complete the gesture. 

"I almost wish you did not work in the gallery, so you could be surprised by the work being presented." I feigned a sigh. "But I suppose if you did not, we would have never met."

She laughed quietly. "I know. I'm sure it'll look lovely once we go inside. I wasn't able to really look at them when installing it. I'm sure I can take in all of the pictures in detail when we get in there, since I've only studied them as proofs."

I allowed a small smile to cross my face again. The word "only" hung in my head, she _only_ saw the proofs, and sounded excited to see them in a larger format. This was something different than what I had been receiving. I was excited to finally be receiving the recognition I deserve.

I squeezed her hand. "If you must know, I am ecstatic to see what you think of your own image, and what others think of your beauty along side your photo."

We enter the building as the sky was turning a vibrant orange and red hue. I guided her into the hallway with a small hand placed on her back. We started walking to the gallery, seeing a small amount of people already in the room. There was a buffet table right outside the door, lined mostly with pizza boxes and potato chips. I internally groaned, but kept a stoic smile on my face as we walked down the hallway.

Carolinn walked out of the gallery as we neared the door. "Oh, you're here!" she said with a relieved smile. I watched her glance to Rose and a flicker of confusion cross her face. I saw her mouth shift as though to say something else, but she didn't speak again.

"I hope we are not too late." I said with my usual polite tone.

"Oh, no, of course not!" She said, moving to the side to let us in. "You're just in time! We opened the doors less than thirty minutes ago."

I chuckled quietly. "Thank you for having me. I'm quite ecstatic to be shown here."

Carolinn moved out of our way and continued on her way passed us. Rose walked forward into the gallery, now transformed with only the studios lights illuminating my work. I followed her in as she turned and and began to focus on the framed work hanging from the ceiling. I bit back a stronger smile as I watched her face make an impressed expression. It was several smaller, gray scale images of dead bodies, the frames hanging from the ceiling attached to each other. 

Rose glanced back at me with a smile and continued on to the next piece. It was my creation "Innocent Gift" in a larger frame than what she had seen. She looked at each picture carefully as though she had never seen them before. She kept her hands together, crossed over her lap respectfully.

We finally got to the back of the room, where the pieces were intentionally funneling the audience. This piece was directly across the room and perfectly visible from the attendant's desk. Rose was still focusing on my photo "Bouquet" as she turned to the piece in the back of the room.

As we were the only people facing this piece I let my mask slip as I watched her face. She stopped and stared, her face immediately shifted and her impressed gaze shifted. Her eyes widened slightly, and I could only imagine what her heartbeat would feel like against me as her face flushed as it did only when it began to pound roughly.

Rose turned to me with her face fixed with a surprised expression. I stared at her, watching her face shift, showing she wanted to say something.

I smiled, shifting closer as she turned back to the largest framed photo in the gallery. My gift to her that I was sure would be put up when she wasn't around. It was her image; my best work yet - despite missing the death every other piece held. I had added the clock this time, and worked hard over the week to perfect this image and show her as I had seen it that night.

"'Midnight Dance...'" I said lowly, quoting the plaque beneath it. "A new model approached me a few weeks ago and asked to be portrayed in my newest series. I think I did wonderfully in capturing her essence and beauty."

"I... I didn't know this was going to be shown tonight." She murmured, turning to me. Her face was flushed and I could tell she was almost completely embarrassed.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned away from Rose to face whomever was trying to get my attention. It was Carolinn again.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but I wanted to ask when you wanted to speak." She said hurriedly.

I politely smiled. "I'm free for the evening, so I'm able to speak when you feel it's time."

She glanced around briefly, judging the amount of people that were there. "Maybe about in hour, to an hour and a half?"

I nodded to her. "That works. Find me when you think it's time for me to speak to the attendants."

"Thank you." She turned on her heel and hurried off through the gallery doors again.

My eye flickered across the nearly empty room as someone walked in. The man was in casual clothes and had ruffled short blonde hair. I twitched my left hand slightly towards Rose as I recognized him. I turned away and focused on Rose's image, the subject herself still looking at it. Because of my head movement she turned her head and smiled at me. I glanced towards her and kept my smile on my face.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight." A woman's voice floated towards me.

I glanced to my left as a smartly dressed woman approached us, wearing a tan dress suit. I recognized her and instantly felt anger boil in my stomach.

"Ah, nor did I expect to see you, Miss." I said in an even tone. "But I attend every gallery opening I am in, as I see it as polite to be present to answer any questions."

Susan Phi laughed dryly. "I've only attended one of your galleries, so I thought attending another might give me insight to your... 'vision...'"

She glanced around and feigned disgust. I could already tell she was intentionally trying to get a rise out of me, so she could continue her slander against me. Instead I moved closer to Rose, pretending I was shifting my weight, partially to anchor myself to reality and not allow myself to be enraged.

"Grand. I'm always eager to educate those that don't understand my work."

She smiled with a crooked, thin line pronouncing some lines on her face. "I'm afraid I have seen enough already. You seem to have some issues learning how to cater to the art world."

"Miss Phi, I'm afraid I have no interest in catering or pandering to people who do not enjoy my work."

"Well, you should." She sneered at me as she seemed to become a little upset that I wasn't giving her what she wanted. "If you want to receive any recognition, maybe you should think about taking constructive criticism seriously."

"Maybe you should turn off the recorder in your pocket." Rose spoke up.

I glanced at Rose as she stared pointedly at the reporter.

"Sorry, I thought this was a two-person conversation." Susan said in response. "Excuse us we were bothering you from viewing this... Art."

"It's not a conversation, ma'am. If you want to record someone I think you need permission first. You're treating it like an interrogation so you can get something to gossip about Mr. Valentini. You should learn the definition of art before confronting someone."

Susan initially tried to spout a witty response, but her mouth opened and the air caught in her throat. Her eyebrows raised up, surprised.

"Both the bottom of your phone poking out of your pocket and the mic on your jacket aren't very well hidden." Rose continued. "Going around to art galleries in hopes of catching the artist to stir up drama in the art world isn't a good idea for progression or even as a good business. Just because it puts money in your pocket doesn't mean you won't make enemies or make people angry with you."

Susan Phi stared at her. Finally her face turned frustrated, and she reached into the jacket of her ensemble. She yanked at something attached to a black wire and pulled it out with a rough snap. She threw it down at her feet, and rushed passed us. I turned and watched as she began to walk out of the building.

"Mark my words, your photos will never be accepted in the art world, especially after this!" she said, turning and shouting at us.

"And good riddance..." mumbled Rose.

She turned to me and saw me staring at her. My public mask must have faltered because she covered her mouth with her fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" she muttered. "I didn't mean to jump in on your conversation with her. She shouldn't treat you like that; I read her article on you a few weeks ago, and I couldn't help but feel she only did it to--."

She gasped slightly as my left hand grasped her right wrist. I didn't realize at first that it was so tight around her, and I loosened my grip. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"Follow me upstairs."

I released her arm and left her stunned. I walked out of the gallery and down the hall as I listened for her heels to begin walking after me.


	14. Tease (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inappropriate chapter warning! Descriptions of sexual acts and language. I hope you enjoy if you choose to proceed.

I began climbing the stairs to the second floor of the college's arts building. I listened quietly as I heard the clicking of Rose's heels several feet behind me. When I got to the top of the stairs I glanced down and saw her walking passed the stairs and down the hall. I flickered my eye down towards her, wondering where she was going.

I walked further down the hallway, standing in near pitch darkness. The light from the first floor floated up to me as I backed into the dark. I stood out of sight of the stairwell and waited for my date to meet me.

I leaned against a wall, yawning to myself. I'd been staying awake late to get ready for this show. Dealing with this crowd of people, as thrilling as watching my art being viewed and appreciated was, unfortunately tired me faster than usual. Perhaps the appearance of one of my worst critics added to that. I rubbed at my eye, trying to alleviate the tired heaviness.

My attention was drawn to a metal door sounding out down the hall. I turned my head in that direction, attempting to make out what I could in the partial darkness. I could see a form shifting in the backdrop, the large floor to ceiling window letting in some light from the streetlights below.

I recognized the form of Rose as she approached me, making me smile slightly. I chuckled to myself quietly, wondering if she knew what I wanted to do to her.

Rose walked up to me silently, her heels barely making noise on the carpet. "Wh-what did you need, Stefano?"

I lowered my eye at her, turning my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Wh... You asked me to meet you up here, I assumed you didn't want to be seen...?"

"Oh, right." I chuckled. "I wondered where you disappeared to, I went looking for you."

Confusion overwrote her face. I let my mask slip and smiled wide to her.

" _Bella,_ I am playing with you." I laughed quietly. "And I'm hoping you'll allow me to play with you some more."

She stepped closer to me. "What... What did you have in mind?"

I turned my head towards the light fading up the stairs. "I'm afraid you caught on that woman was just trying to slander me, and I would... _love_ the chance to thank you for it."

I reached for her, holding out my hand. With some hesitation, she raised her hand and fit it into mine. I gently closed my fingers over her palm, guiding her towards me. Her fingers intertwined with mine as I guided her backwards, walking towards the bathrooms.

I tried the door to the female bathroom. It opened with a simple click and we slipped into the pitch dark bathroom. After a moment, the lights flicked on and I watched her react to the irritation. She looked at me, and I watched her focus on my face, her eyes flitting around and staring at my features.

I took her hands and pulled her further into the room. I pushed her against the counter, setting her down to sit on it.

"If you'll allow me, I would like to show you my appreciation for earlier."

"F-for what?" Her neck slowly turned a rich red color. She avoided my eye as I leaned forward.

"You are willing to defend me." I murmured in her ear, making her shiver under my touch. "You know my models die by my hand for their deaths to be portrayed in my art. You know when I grow tired of you I will kill you, painfully and slowly."

Her hand raised and pressed her fingertips against her mouth, eyes closing tightly.

"And here you are tonight, publicly, excitedly..." My hand traced her hip gently as I tried not to scare her. "Able to cry for help, able to call the police, able to utilize what you know about my work..."

Her head leaned back, still covering her mouth. I chuckled low, allowing my fingertips to trace up her frame gently.

"You show me your interest in my art. You show dedication to me. You allow yourself to be open with me."

I pressed my lips against her neck, open against her skin. I wrapped my hand around her wrists, pulling the hand covering her mouth away from her face. I listened to her breathing through her mouth.

"May I touch you?" I whispered against her ear.

She leaned forward into me, nodding her head against my shoulder. "Yes... Y-yes..."

I smiled, raising my hand away from her arms, stroking her sides through her dress.

"You... Defended me, my precious muse..." I murmured. "You have defended my art. You have stood against someone who only wanted to drag me down."

She whimpered as I slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders.

"And I wish... No, I must. I must show you how it feels. I must show you what it means to me."

She nodded again, leaning against me more. "Stefano, I... I don't--..."

I removed my hands, pulling away. She leaned forward at first, then sat up. She looked at me with surprise, hair disheveled and face starkly red.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to push myself on you." I said, brushing a hand through my hair. "Forgive me for assuming you wanted to sleep with me."

"O-oh, no, that's not what I meant." She turned away shyly. "I was just going to say I don't want you to sleep me unless you really want to."

I glanced back at her. I felt a burn inside of me. This woman... Why in the world did she cause this odd feeling in me? Why did she make me want to stay by her side, to keep her with me until we both age and waste away?

I approached her again, reaching for her. I gently grasped her shoulders and pulled her to me. I leaned close to her, staring into her eyes. Then I pressed my lips to hers.

" _(My precious dear.)_ " I muttered into her ear in my native tongue. " _(My dear, little, wonderful muse. You are all mine. You will never, ever escape me.)_ "

She reacted so wonderfully to me, grasping onto my suit and pulling me towards her. She gasped as I kissed her again. I felt myself becoming hard as I touched her, my body readying for the heaven I wanted to indulge in with her.

I grasped onto her dress. "Do you want me, my dear?"

She nodded vigorously in reply. Her face enticed me, eyes staring at me with lust and wanting.

Before I knew what I was doing, her dress tore underneath my hands. I stared at it as she glanced down, the sound reverberating through the tiled room. Her breasts were bare to me as the deep-necked dress was torn nearly all the way to her hips.

"Excuse me for that, my dear."

She pulled on me, pressing her lips to mine again. I grunted in surprise, then pulled her to me. I slid her legs around my back and pulled her off the counter. I held her to me and turned from the counter, walking towards the wall. I pressed her against the wall, pressing my body into hers to combat the cold room with my own heat.

"Stefano, I..." She began, shuddering slightly.

"Shh, no words now..." I whispered into her ear. "While I chose this room in hopes no one would come to bother us, I don't believe for a moment no one would come looking for us if we made too much noise."

She looked into my eye, her gaze taking in the details of my face. I tucked my head against her neck, biting her gently as her hands found their way onto my shoulders. The sound of her fighting her own moans and pleasure was driving me mad. I ran my tongue over the center of her throat, eliciting a low whine from her as she turned her head in embarrassment. I chuckled, fitting my lips against hers, tasting her tongue against mine. I couldn't deny it tasted wonderful in the heat of the moment.

I slipped my hands into her dress, touching her chest gently. She gasped, her spine stretching and pressing her stomach against me. I rubbed both nipples, gently rolling them in my fingers, making her whimper and moan quietly. 

I smiled as she leaned her head into me. "S-Stefano, I... I want you..."

"My precious Rose..." I whispered in her ear. "Of course I'll relieve you, I'll make you feel wonderful."

"I want to make you happy..." Her head lifted slightly, and I felt one of her hands loosen from my shoulder.

I grunted slightly as she began to palm me through my slacks. I shuddered, surprised that she was bold enough to do that now.

" _Bella..._ " I whispered, staring at her.

My pants unbuckled and were unzipped. I could barely blink as she slipped a hand down my pants, grasping me gently. I could feel her uncertainty; the trembling of her hand, the biting of her lip, and the quick glances to make sure she was doing okay.

"I don't want you to feel obligated to do this for me, Stefano..." she whispered. "I... I just want you to be happy, to feel safe and respected... I... I think you deserve that after all you've been through."

My hips jerked into her hand involuntarily. I grunted quietly, trying to keep my composure, watching her as she avoided my gaze.

"You made me feel, well, happy. You in way saved me from myself the night you took me home. You helped me feel better about my life since we met, and you've made me feel special. Even if it might not be true, I think it's been helpful to make me feel more comfortable in my own skin."

I grasped her hand, making her jump. I pulled it out of my pants, lifting it above her head.

"Who told you it wasn't true?" I whispered into her ear. " _Bella,_ you are driving me crazy, and I can't take much more."

I watched her visibly swallow. She nodded slightly, watching me as I lifted her other hand and grasped both wrists with my right hand, holding them against the wall above her.

"I..." I breathed. "I need you, my precious muse."

"T-take me, Stefano... P-please..."

That's what tipped me over the edge. Her wide, innocent eyes staring at me, her body arched slightly into mine completely shoved me as I took in her aroused form. I pulled down her dress, simple now that it was ruined with a large tear down the front of it. I watched the river of emerald pool at her feet, her pale bare form now visible to me. I felt my breathing heave in my chest, sliding down her underwear as well. I slipped my pants down slightly, undoing my jacket and shirt as I pressed my lips against hers again.

I pressed my bare chest to hers, pulling her hips into mine. She moaned quietly, silenced by my mouth capturing her sounds as I pressed my excitement against her. I grabbed my penis and slid it against her folds. I watched her reaction, her head turning to the side, eyes closed like our first night together. I kissed her neck gently, slipping my head against her more. The warmth of her essence flowing over me was getting to me, causing more excitement to run up my spine.

She moaned, eyes snapping open as I let myself in. I closed my eye, leaning my head against her, allowing myself to just feel her as I entered her body.

"Mm... _Bella,_ you are wonderful..." I muttered under my breath.

"I-it f-feels good..." She nodded against me.

I let go of her wrists, feeling them wrap around my shoulders. I grasped one of her legs, pulling it up to my waist. I pushed her into the wall, grasping her other leg and pulling it around me. She whimpered as my body pressed deeply into her when her weight settled against me.

"Let me know if it hurts too much, my dear." I muttered.

She nodded and hummed out a sound of agreement. I could feel her shifting against me ever so slightly, and I allowed her to adjust to the new feeling. Her fingers threaded through my hair, grasping onto small clumps tightly.

I began moving in her, holding her against the wall as leverage. I felt her legs flinch against me, her warm, wet body making a squelching sound as I moved within her. Her movements mimicking mine as I thrust my body into hers. Her breasts felt so soft against my chest, moving with me as my body rocked into hers. She began to moan more, her head leaning back against the wall, hair rustling as it moved unrelentingly with her.

I stared into her face, watching it shift so wonderfully. I felt pride take over my hunger. She wasn't as afraid as our first night, she wasn't as quiet or unrestrained even as she tried to be. Her face twisted in unrestrained pleasure.

Pleasure _I_ was causing to her. . .

I pressed my face into her neck, wanting to know what would happen if I found each and every spot on her body that only served to make her ache and moan. As I couldn't use my hands in this moment, I used my tongue and teeth to search her neck and shoulders. It seemed all my actions redeemed wonderful sounds from her, her back shifting and eliciting small gasps as I let my teeth grasp and roll her skin. She whimpered as I ran my tongue along her neck, gently beginning to suck harshly on her neck.

Her hands grasped tightly on my suit jacket. I can feel her pulling and grabbing and arching her back into me.

" _(I want you forever, my love.)_ " I mumbled in her ear. My breath caught in my throat as I said it, and I hesitated, watching her face. She seemed to react to my voice and not what I said. It took me a moment to realize I hadn't spoken English.

I swallowed. I watched her. _Was she always this... Intriguing?_

Almost like she was reading my mind, she leaned forward, opening her eyes and watching me. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

 _Am I okay?_ I sighed, leaned forward, feeling her. "Yes, I got caught up in watching you, Rose."

I kissed her neck. She giggled, holding me tight to her form.

"Is it alright if we continue?"

"Mm-hmm." She nodded against my shoulder, holding onto me tighter.

I moved my hips some more, feeling pleasure to continue wreaking havoc on me. I pinned her to the wall with my body, holding my tongue by my teeth to make sure I didn't say anything more that was overwhelmingly stupid.

 _No, no I'm not okay._ I thought, continuing to hide my face in her neck. _Something is wrong with me. I'm not myself. I... Haven't been myself since I approached this gallery._

I flinched slightly as she moaned loudly. I bit my lip as she began to clench around me, her orgasm taking over her. She whimpered and moaned, squirming under my touch. My fingers clenched around her hips, feeling wonder crash over me.

I couldn't last much longer as her body tightened around me. "Ugh, f-fuck...." I mumbled, bucking my body into her, chasing my release.

" _Bella, bella Rosa..._ " I groaned, letting myself one last thrust before I released.

She moaned as I emptied myself in her. She grabbed tightly to me, legs tensing as I continued moving gently in her, milking my high and wishing to prolong hers.

"I... I love you..." she muttered, still hiding her face in my shoulder.

I hesitated, not willing to allow myself to slip again. " _Si. . ._ I know, my dear."

She giggled quietly, kissing my neck, causing me to groan. I held her to me, not wanting to let go. Not willing to release her and walk away from what is keeping me here, what is making my work all worth while.

"What..." I shook my head. _Wanting...?_

"Hmm?" she hummed, sounding happy and tired.

I pulled back, realizing I had spoken, not thought to myself. Damn, I really am too tired and wiped to keep my head straight.

"Excuse me for speaking out of turn." I muttered, thinking quickly, pressing my lips against her neck again. "I simply wanted to make you feel good. I was hoping to learn what you feel when we have sex."

She giggled, nudging my head. I kissed her neck some more, trying to ignore the feeling of nearly speaking my mind without restraint. She hummed as I lowered her legs, continuing to kiss at her neck, wrapping my arms behind her back.

"Ah, my dear, I believe I have ruined your gown." I said as I pulled away. "Damn, please forgive me for my... animosity..."

She held onto my face, staring into my eye. Her smile was bright, lips parted, hair tousled, and lipstick now smudged across her face. There was an odd elegance to her painted face being ruined.

"You're forgiven, Stefano..." She pulled me to her, kissing my gently.

I pulled away after a few seconds. My stomach twisted, and I let myself out of her body. My eye flickered as I watched myself exit her.

"I grabbed the other dress from earlier in case you changed your mind." I said as I began buttoning my shirt. "I suppose that is lucky, then. It is in my car, so once I'm cleaned up, I'll run down and get it for you."

"Oh, th-thank you." If it was possible, her face flushed even more red.

"Did you forget where we are?" I managed with a slight chuckle.

"Maybe a little bit. . ."

She slipped her underwear up her hips, and slid her green tattered dress back up her body and over her shoulders.

I buckled my pants again, turning to the mirror. My visible cheek was reddened, lipstick smeared on my mouth and cheeks, and on one side of my neck. I frowned slightly, and walked towards a towel dispenser. I grabbed a small amount of a paper towel, and ran it under the sink. I scrubbed at the lipstick to try and ensure any red marks wouldn't be visible.

I turned to her when I was done, seeing her watching me. I pressed my lips to her forehead.

"Thank you, my dear Rose." I muttered. "I'll be back soon. See if you can clean up some of your makeup too."

I chuckled, seeing her regard her reflection as I said that.

"I'll see if I have a matching scarf as well, to hide what I did to your neck."

She nodded to me, then smiled. She blew me a kiss, since I had just cleaned up, and I smiled at her back, taking the door handle and opening it slowly. She turned back to the mirror as I closed the door behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't enjoy trying to pretend I know a language and write it in with a multilingual character. One story/comic had a workaround where using < and > would indicate that someone was speaking Japanese. I had a similar idea, using italics and parentheses to indicate another language. Therefore it doesn't detract from the story too much, breaking immersion, and doesn't make any inappropriate mistakes in a language I'm not familiar with.


	15. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter has an implied sexual assault. There is a trigger warning before it happens, so you can read up until that point if it bothers you. There are some more details in the trigger warning. Please take caution when you read this chapter, it's not meant to be taken lightly.

The cold breeze of the night air hit my face, freezing the still damp skin where I had cleaned myself. I closed my eye, hesitating for a moment, just allowing myself to breathe and take in the sensation of just existing for a brief moment.

My eye opened as I breathed, looking up into the moon, waning away in the night sky. The stars were barely visible as I looked into the azure night, almost pure black staring back at me.

I pulled out a notepad from my pocket, grabbing the small handheld pencil. I flipped it open to a new, blank page and wrote a note to myself for my next work I was now inspired to create. A moment's reprieve, just for myself, sketching as hastily as I could the image in my mind in hopes I could make it come to life shortly.

I felt relaxed and content. My mind turning back to my muse, waiting for me in the second floor bathroom. I chuckled quietly to myself, turning my back to the arts building and beginning to walk away.

I mumbled something to myself as I turned towards the front of the building, the only way to the parking lot where my car's parked. I knew of a small scarf in my glove box, but couldn't quiet recall if it was blue, black, or another color. I would hope it would look well with the dark blue dress she wore. I couldn't do anything for the makeup I had ruined.

As much as I was for physical appearances, I couldn't help but find myself excited while studying her. Her defense of my work and standing against my critic completely made me mad for her attention.

The physical pleasure of her continued to linger in the back of my head, including the nonsense I began speaking to her during our actions. I sighed as I ran my gloved hand through my hair.

"What am I doing. . . ?" I muttered.

Whether I was wasting my time with this woman and idealizing her, or I was setting myself on the line to be caught for my work. Neither is a good use of our time. She keeps telling me she loves me, and while she tries to openly communicate with me about it because I cannot return what she feels, I can't help but admit this form of attention is a welcome change to my usual life's story.

And yet, despite my continued assurance to myself that this relationship was a waste of time, I couldn't make myself break away from her. If I was nervous about her going to law enforcement, I wouldn't even dare to take chances and let her have the chance. If I thought she was going to use me or attempt to hurt me, I don't believe I would be so gullible. I had a continued desire to turn her into a work of art.

Then what is it? Why am I keeping her here?

I looked up to the lights illuminating the ground beneath my feet as I walked towards the parking lot. My shoe hit a small piece of concrete, skittering it across the walkway. I could make my way just fine through the arts building, and likely the campus if I chose.

I thought back to a piece of mail I had received the other day. An invitation from someone I had been speaking with arrived, saying I was to be recruited as some sort of disciple.

I wasn't so much the religious type. I had been raised catholic at first, but chose to leave the church a long time ago. I had probably left in my teens, maybe ten years old to focus on my passion for art. I had been contacting Mr. Wallace personally to deal with being alone in the world; my family being gone when I returned from war, Emily leaving me shortly after, and seemingly being rejected by everyone around me. I had hoped for assistance with my post-traumatic symptoms, still living with it years after I came back.

I hummed to myself, organizing my thoughts some more. I closed my eyes to focus on my thought process. Perhaps I shall simply approach that supposed "cleansing ceremony" in order to set the record straight. I didn't wish to join any sort of congregation, I wanted to sort out my messy life.

I walked in front of the arts building, walking past the sound of people talking and some classical music playing. More people were here, observing my gallery. For a split moment, I turned and watched. People were mulling, smiling, standing right in front of the gallery doors and grabbing the food on the tables. I could see their mouths forming "photo" and other various familiar words.

My eye flickered across the crowd, for some reason wishing to see someone familiar. Now that I was remembering things from my youth I felt solitary again. I didn't know anyone, no one to help me. I left my family home and came back to a crowd of strangers. I could never have a satisfying relationship, not that I tried or wanted one, once I began to take more interest in my work.

I saw Carolinn rush out the doors once she had seen me. My eye focused on her briefly, taking me a few moments to recognize her.

"Mr. Valentini!" she said in a flustered tone. "There you are! Are you leaving already? I thought you were still going to speak."

I attempted a smile, unable to reapply my fake personality now that it had completely fallen from me. "Ah, excuse me. I'm afraid my date had a rather severe wardrobe malfunction. I just need to run off to my car in hopes of finding a replacement for her."

"Oh, alright! Make sure you come back shortly, some of our students are excited to hear you speak about your process."

I nodded, trying to smile at her again. "Just excuse me for a moment. I'll come speak when I have finished helping Miss Rose."

"Alright, come find me when you're ready."

I forced a low chuckle as I turned and continued to my car.

Rose. My current muse, my current project.

I blinked to myself. Then I laughed, feeling a sense of melancholy take over me. I suppose I always knew it would never work out. I am not the type suited for relationships, and even if I was, there was no way for me to secure a healthy one as I am too entranced in myself.

I clicked open the lock on the car's trunk, and opened it carefully. I pulled out the dark blue dress, a slight shine indicating it's false satin appearance. I slid my leather gloves over the skirt, feeling it slip under my grasp. I felt a small smile slip across my face.

But I wasn't happy.

Perhaps after tonight, we shall go our separate ways.

I shut the trunk with the dress in my arms. I walked around to the passenger side, clicking the button on my keys and opening it. I unlocked the glove box and pulled it open. Some documents slid and settled in their place, and small piles of fabrics shifted on top of them. I pulled out a dark blue color and compared it to the dress in the low lighting of the car. 

It would have to do. I shut the glove box and stood up out of the car. I locked my car, listening to the locks and the trunk click loudly. I walked back towards the building, going around the side of the arts building to avoid drawing attention to myself or to Rose when she came back to the gathering.

I opened the door to the building once I had found my way back around the side. I found my way into the stairway, luckily this dress not as long as the green one I had destroyed, so I wasn't climbing the stairs with difficulty. It was, however, very dark in the stairwell, not being motion-sensor or lit at all.

I reached the top step of the stairway, making my way into the second floor hallway. It was almost pure darkness still, but at least there was some more light that could guide my way. I walked through the hallway, moving towards the bathroom, hoping she was how I had left her and she hadn't gotten spooked and ran. But I had grown to know Rose enough to know she would wait and do as she was told.

**-** _**Trigger Warning!!** _The next scene discusses rape, while it doesn't include the action itself, attempted rape is implied. Please know you have been warned. You can skip, and please do so, to the next chapter if you know you will be bothered by this **-**

I suppose I was lucky to have won her affections. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind most of the time, but I could always expect her to listen to me if I asked her to do something.

As I reached the bathroom hallway, I realized I could hear something. My ear picked up slightly on a voice. There was a muffled shriek. I swallowed, wondering what could have possibly happened. In my hesitation, not noticing myself pausing, another sound came from the turn in the hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

I found my feet moving faster as I began to run to the bathroom. It wasn't a shriek of excitement. I had heard and caused too many of terror to know the difference.

"--Quiet--!" I heard a male voice call out as I grasped the door handle to the women's bathroom.

The door flew open in my hands with a bang as it slammed against the wall. I stood in the doorway as I took in the scene.

That blonde man I had seen from earlier was laying on the floor, knees splayed to the side as he kneeled over something. I recognized the emerald green dress I had torn, now laying away from the body of the woman I'd had sex with just a few minutes ago. Bare legs were splayed underneath him, and I could see they were struggling underneath him. The man with the messy blonde hair sat up slightly and looked over at me. There were red marks across his face, both of his own hands pulling away from the body underneath him. His eyes were glazed and oddly he didn't seem to actually see me, not able to focus on what was just a few feet from him.

Rose sat up frantically, a loud gasp emitting from her lips. "Stefano--!" was all she could manage before the man turned to her and shoved her down again.

The look in her eyes were panicked. No. No, they weren't panicked, they were completely terrified. There was a red mark on her neck, and her face was red with tears streaking down her cheeks, leading to her ears and down her chin in two different streaks per eye.

 _He's trying to kill her._ was all that passed my mind

I didn't register the dress in my hands slipping to the floor. My body jerked forward moving to the man who didn't seem to care about me. My hands, now free, grabbed his hair and shirt violently. I shouted something even I couldn't decipher as my fists clenched on what they could grab.

With all my strength I pulled the man away from her, his body feeling heavier than dead weight. I threw him backwards, spinning as I turned to try and get him as far away from her as possible. His body stumbled and hit the tile with a loud smack.

Rose gasped again, the kind that only happens when you haven't had air for too long, the kind that burns your windpipe because it has been completely constricted. I could hear her gasping aloud, trying to force herself to breathe.

" _Cara._ " I said in my agitation. " _(My dear, I am here, please don't be afraid.)_ "

I unbuttoned my jacket, slipping it over her nearly nude form. She held it to herself as I turned back to the man that had attacked her. He was just beginning to get up, staggering, and unbalanced.

"Who... M'th'fuck are you?" he slurred, and I realized I could smell the scent of cheap alcohol permeating the room.

I sneered at him. I stepped to the side, knowing what he was about to try. He began to rush me, hands up in a grabbing motion, and I easily grabbed him and kicked out his feet. The man crashed onto his own face on the ceramic tile. I watched him sit up, dazed and confused. I leaned down, grasping his hair.

"You aren't even worth the time, you drunkard." I allowed an enraged look crossed my face. "However, you have hurt something precious to me."

I slammed his head down against the tiles, hard. A loud crack sounded through the room, and when I pulled his head up again some blood had begun flowing from his temple. I let go of his hair, his head hitting the floor again and causing some blood spatter cross the tiling.

I looked up at Rose, her face flushed from oxygen deprivation, and a large dark red mark developing on her neck. She was still scared, staring at me with widened eyes.

"St-Stefano--" she tried, her voice croaking as her damaged voice box must have hurt her.

"Rose, _mia bella._ " I said quietly, moving towards her. "It is okay, I am here. I am here."

I saw the dark blue dress I had retrieved from her. I moved towards it, and picked it up, brushing it off and turning it over to her.

I slipped my hand into my pants pocket. I unlocked it and opened the phone application. I called Carolinn's personal cell, knowing the campus police would be faster than the police in Krimson.

"Hello, Mr. Valentini?" Carolinn said once she picked up.

"Hello, I'm afraid we've hit a snag this evening." I said before she could continue. "Would you mind calling the campus police, or sending security? We're on the second floor of the art's building, in the women's bathroom."

"What happened?!" she cried out, the stress of the evening having finally accumulated in this moment.

"I'm afraid my date has been assaulted by one of the attendants. He may also be well over the limit for intoxication."

The phone clicked in my hand. As anxious as I was about it, I exited the call, and dialed the dreaded 911. My phone started calling the police, quickly clicking to an operator.

"Hello, Krimson City PD, what's you're emergency?"

I turned to my Rose, helping her finish getting dressed. "Good evening, I'm afraid there's been an attempted assault and attempted murder at the community college. The campus police has been called first, and it's likely you'll get another call soon about the same thing."

"Where is it on campus? And who's calling?"

"It is in the arts building on the campus. I am Stefano Valentini. Please hurry before the assailant tries to attack someone again."

"The police are on their way. Are you in a safe place, away from the assailant."

"Yes, I've knocked him out."

"Alright, well please make your way to a safe place and allow the police to do their job."

"Thank you, good-bye." I slipped the phone off my shoulder and set it on the ground as it clicked when the call ended again.

I hushed Rose as she tried to speak, and refused my jacket as she tried to hand it back to me. Once the dress was secure on her body, I slipped my suit jacket around her shoulders. She pulled it around closer to her body when she realized what I was trying to do.

"Don't move!" I heard shouting behind me.

"Don't tackle me, you'll hurt her." I lifted my hands away from Rose. "The man you're looking for is the one laying on the floor."

I was grabbed roughly and pulled away from Rose anyway. I held my face stoic, and refused to waver from that expression. When the campus police realized I wasn't the attacker, they picked up the still passed out drunk man.

I stayed by Rose's side as they questioned people in the gallery. The Krimson police arrived shortly after the questions began. I held Rose close to me, and she held onto my arm tightly as we were constantly guided around to various officers.

"I'm staying with her." I said when they tried to drag her away. She wasn't speaking as she was still in shock, an iron grip on my arm.

"I'm afraid we'll need to take her to a more private place," said the officer trying to get information from her.

"Then I will go with her." I said sternly. "I'm her boyfriend. I saw the attack, and I'm the one who stopped him before he could kill her."


	16. Hidden Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the assault, Stefano wakes to Rose sleeping in his bed. This is no longer a surprise, and it lets him remember what happened the night before.

My eye opened as I slipped back into consciousness. I turned over and stretched out my limbs, groaning quietly to myself. I ran my fingers through my bangs, combing out the snags that had occurred in the night. I glanced down at my bed once I sat up, mind piecing together what had happened through the haze of a heavy sleep cycle.

Rose lay peacefully next to me. She seemed to only wake after I did when she stayed over.

I watched her as the sheets lifted and sank with her breathing. I wondered if she struggled to breathe, even in her sleep. If her lungs or her throat pained her when she wasn't awake.

The events of last night fit together in my mind, assembling the proper timeline as I recalled each detail almost perfectly. Helping her as she got into my car, nearly having to pry her grip off of me because of the state she was in.

"I won't hold it against you, if I have bruises on my arm tomorrow," I'd said.

She only nodded as I closed her door, not reacting to my attempt to lighten the situation. We went to the hospital, followed closely by the police. It was a silent drive as she sat next to me. I barely looked at her, knowing the image that would be there. She gripped her hands to her elbows, across her stomach, still wearing my jacket across her shoulders. She didn't talk the whole drive, nor did I expect she even could. Each time she tried to talk it was barely over a whisper, looking as though it hurt her.

The police interviewed me on what I saw, why I was in the women's restroom, my relation to Rose, and so on. I was sure to keep my mind calm, and only give them information they asked. I did admit to them one of the reasons I had taken her to the restroom was to have sex discreetly, as I assumed she would have a similar response to the question.

When they were done with me, I did inform them that I had seen the man who attacked her before. I didn't know who he was yet, but he had been stalking her at the college since the time I met her. I gave them details of what I had seen, him staring in at her, and at me while I was there, through doorways and windows, sitting himself outside of the gallery where he could watch her while she worked in there. They seemed to take my claims seriously when I said them, and I insisted they follow me up on what comes of it.

Once Rose was finished being evaluated by the hospital, we drove to the police station so they could finish interviewing her. They let me sit next to her as two officers questioned her and listened to her story as best she could describe.

I sat there with my hands in my lap, watching the detective take notes in front of me. I knew she would feel like everyone was watching her if I looked at her, so I simply listened to her as her story unfolded.

It was an ex-boyfriend of hers. His name was Ryan, it seemed, and he had been worse than a brute when they were together. She detailed how he had been trying to "win" her back over during the year and a half after she broke things off with him. He had abused her sexually, all the time as she described it, and turned more violent as time went on. She had been too scared of him and had no proof of what he was like, so she never went to the police.

After the interview, she was taken to an empty room with a white wall. They took pictures of her as I watched through a window from the next room. I watched as they would get close to the markings he had caused on her, taking detailed images of everything he had done. The large, dark purple bruise on her throat that was already forming, the fingernail scratches along her arms and face, and the bruises on her face where he had tried to knock her out. Each time I glanced at her, I felt rage burn in the pit of my stomach.

Eventually, we were allowed to leave. We were escorted to my car, and they told us we would be called and a follow-up would be given to us in detail. She was told she may have to testify in court, and we would be visited by a detective if they needed any more details.

As the car door shut behind me, I switched on the engine and began to exit the parking lot.

"Do you want me to take you home?" I said quietly as I turned onto the road.

I glanced at her. She shook her head roughly in response to me.

"No." She croaked. "No, not my home."

I glanced over at her, her tears streaming down her face afresh. I frowned. It elicited something inside of me, making me realize she was hurting emotionally and mentally more than I'd seen her. The day I took her to my studio, the times when she had sought comfort as we talked on the phone, it made much more sense now.

" _Bella_ _mia_. _.._ " I muttered.

I reached over and grabbed onto one of her hands. I grasped it tightly and felt her fingers intertwine with mine.

"Can I stay with you for a few days?"

"... Yes..."

We arrived at my home around 1 in the morning. My gallery opening had begun around 5 in the afternoon. I exhaustedly locked the front door after we entered and tossed my keys on the island in my kitchen.

I guided her still frightened form to my bedroom, helping her sit on the side of my bed. Sitting where I had placed the dresses earlier for her to choose from. I turned to my closet and pulled out an old shirt for her to wear. The only feminine "night clothes" I had were unfortunately lingerie, and they were mostly photo shoot clothing, and I wouldn't risk traumatizing her more by asking her to wear any

"Th-thank you..." was all she could manage as I exited so she could change.

Now, the following morning, I looked over to her tranquil face. Her body was facing me, laying on her side in her sleep. I swallowed, eyes tracing over her form under the sheets. The gravity of my current reality settled into my bones; this woman who I've invited into my home and shared my darkest secret with lay before me as though I wouldn't harm her.

I found myself faced with that same question again. _Why?_ Why did I even tolerate her presence, or I suppose even entertain the idea of keeping her around?

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to feel this way about her.

Now when I turn my mind to capturing her death, I've begun to feel hesitant. I've begun questioning myself. She's made me more confused than anyone, any model I've come across.

She's especially different in that I've slept with her twice now.

Even if I break the cycle and let her go, I don't think I'll be satisfied. Something about her makes me... unsure. I don't like feeling anxious, or unsure of myself.

Yet she drives me crazy.

Despite learning what I do, knowing what I do to create my art... she has stayed with me. No, more than that, she fell in love with me.

She doesn't simply do as I say to stay alive. She won't allow herself to be abused by anyone again. She has spoken out against me once so far, telling me she wasn't going to allow me to use her or control her. It had been during when I made a few discussions about how she should wear her hair once she grows it out, to which she responded she was planning on keeping her hair short for a long time.

I have to admit, since I've seen what she's been through, I find it very admirable. Especially standing up against someone who continually tells her they will to kill her.

I lay down in bed again, sliding the sheets up to my chest. I lifted a hand and slid it through her hair. She didn't have a chance to take a shower last night, too tired and already asleep in my bed once I finished getting myself ready for bed. Her hair was still a little stiff from the hair gel I had used, but I passed my fingers through the strands anyway.

I watched her face, unmoving as she slept. The silent breathing as her frame moved, curled up slightly in on herself.

She's never mentioned her family. Granted, I never spoke about mine, but she hasn't said anything that implied they existed. I wondered if she had been alone, like me. If she had anyone to care for her, to love her. I wondered if she had been so alone in the year and a half after breaking things off with her last boyfriend, and that's why she was so quick to lower her guard around me. I wondered what she felt when she realized she loved me.

I've always scoffed at the notion of love. I thought it was a simple mindset that gave someone a weak point. I've been attracted to some people, cared about them, but never felt more than that.

And yet I am questioning my own feelings. My thoughts. Questioning myself in a way I'm sure I never have.

I sighed through my nose, finally realizing I had been holding my breath. And finally realizing just how much I sighed when I thought about her.

I continued petting her head, just watching Rose.

 _My_ Rose.

" _Mia_..." I whispered, not realizing it slipped out. " _Mia bella Rosa._ "

I slid my hand down, gently brushing my fingertips across her face. I softly touched her cheek bones, her plump cheeks... tracing her small nose, her eyebrows. I let my finger run along her jawline, and over her lips. Her lips that had pressed against mine so many times now. Her skin, so soft... so lovely.

I ached to turn it into one of my creations.

Yet I couldn't. I wouldn't hear her praise, her excitement. I wouldn't see her smile.

I wished to create, but I couldn't pull away from the image of her before me. I yearned to stay like this. To find myself frozen in time with her. Frozen as I slide my hands back through her hair.

"Lovers" I could call it. Or "Longing." Something along that string of ideas.

The world would never be so accepting of a work like that. I knew this once I returned from the war, and I knew this when I set up my first gallery showing. I hadn't been accepted by so many people around me. I wasn't accepted for the scarring on my face, and I wasn't accepted for the vision that had been granted to me.

And still, I seem to have found someone who has accepted me.

My eyelid fluttered low, and I allowed myself to close it, pulling my hand away from her head. I don't want her to leave me. I'm sure I would have to leave her, eventually. I know most relationships end in heartbreak, and this one I'm sure will be no exception.

Still, I wanted to keep her by my side. Keep her voice speaking to me. Keep her love and thoughts centered on me.

"Stefano...?"

My eye opened and regarded Rose again as I heard her near voiceless whisper. Her eyes were open, looking at me. I stared quietly at her, letting myself a moment to smile at her.

"Good morning."

She nodded and smiled weakly in response. She reached forward, holding onto my hand. I hold it back, still mulling in my thoughts, focusing on the soft sensation of her hand in mine. The difference in the flawless skin running along her hands, and the small shrapnel scars along mine. It had taken so long for me to be comfortable to let her see my hands and the skin of my torso. She had yet to see my missing eye, though. Maybe after a while, I'd let her see it... When I'm ready.

Rose shifted where she lay, and eventually sat up, the small smile dropping from her face.

"S-sorry..." she mumbled.

She hopped off the bed, and ran out of the room. I blinked, watching her leave the room. I sat up and rushed after her. She ran into my bathroom and to the toilet. She began having her stomach into it, coughing and sputtering.

I watched her for a moment. I went to her, ignoring the scent of the bile, kneeling beside her. She coughed as I ran a hand over her back.

"I wonder if you got food poisoning from dinner." I said quietly, wondering if I had under-cooked something last night.

She shook her head. "I don't know... I've been feeling so sick lately."

"Damn, maybe the flu?"

"Maybe." She coughed and threw up again.

I sighed, and stood up. "How about you take a shower, my dear. When you're all done. I'll make you some breakfast for when you feel better."

I turned and went to the kitchen, pulling out my electric kettle. I ran some water in it and set it up to boil.

I began to hum my favorite song quietly to myself as I pulled out my french press and began setting it up. I poured some coffee grounds into the press, and turned to my fridge for some bread and eggs. I hesitated, then decided some sausages would be good to have, too.

I turned to the stove, and saw the time on the overhead read 2:00 P.M. _Two in the afternoon...?_ I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, we were both so exhausted last night.

The kettle beeped, and I poured the water to start the coffee, beginning to cook the food. I began to hum a little louder, letting myself going through the motions for the morning.

Certainly one thing that was good about Rose coming into my life was that I began to eat a little healthier.

Well, I should say eating at all. I'd had such a hard time stomaching much food, so my refrigerator was mostly empty. Given that she had begun staying over once a week, I've started making larger meals and eating properly.

After a few more minutes, I felt arms slide around my waist. I glanced down, seeing my Rose's bare arms wrapped around me as I felt her head press into my back.

"Feeling better, my dear?"

"Mm-hmm..." I felt her nodding against me.

I kept stirring the eggs, waiting to hear the dinging of the toaster, keeping some attention on the sausages as well. I continued humming quietly, letting myself feel the warmth of her pressed into my back. Once the toast had popped up, I switched off the burners, and turned back to the coffee that was still steeping. I plunged it down, pulling out some mugs for us. I poured the coffee and divvied the food between some plates.

I made my way to the fridge, Rose following me as I made my way there. I pulled out some cream and made the coffee. I picked up both mugs, and set them on the island in the middle of the kitchen, then grabbed the plates with some silverware and set them by the mugs.

After that, we sat down to eat.


	17. Fading Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano Valentini is missing.

_-Rose's P.O.V.-_

The clinking of my favorite mug filled the silent, small kitchen. The sound of the spoon stirring the tea I had stood watching for the past five minutes being what filled my mind. I tried to simply drown out my thoughts. It wasn't simple, since nothing was helping to stop me thinking.

I picked up the mug, softly sipping at the hot tea. It burned my tongue, and I was grateful to just feel something.

It had been weeks since Stefano's work had been brought down.

 _NO, no._ I don't want to think about it. I have to stop thinking about it.

_Did I chase him off??_

Stop it.

My phone started to buzz. I jumped, reaching for it instantly. I hoped it was a phonecall, I begged it to be Stefano calling me.

It was my timer. I guess I had accidentally restarted it after turning it off before. I choked back tears, like I always did each time I get my hopes up. I always knew it wasn't him, but... I still held out hope.

I slipped my hand over my stomach, and across my slightly larger hips. Did he leave because I started gaining weight? I didn't think it was showing that much.

I shook my head, mentally counting the days again since he had gone. Replaying the last time I saw him. The Sunday after Ryan had tried to kill me, he dropped me off in the afternoon. He walked me up to my apartment, leaving me with a kiss, a smile, and a wave.

"Next time my gallery is shown, would you mind being my plus one again?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Of course not."

He laughed, kissed me on my forehead, and pulled my front door closed for me while waving a little bit at me.

And then he was gone. I watched his car drive out of the apartment complex, saw it disappear around the corner with a smile across my face. I was happy how attached he seemed to grow to me. It felt like we were really a couple, and even if he was only playing the part, it made me feel happy that he was willing to go as far as saving my life.

"Agh!" I slammed my mug down on the counter. I didn't realized I had frozen, reliving the last time I had seen him.

I rubbed my hand, feeling the heat pulse through my hand painfully.

Stefano's gallery stayed up for a month and a half, but the opening night was never rescheduled, and my painting teacher asked me several times if I knew where he had gone. Apparently, she couldn't get a hold of him either, and he wasn't coming to pick up his work from the arts department.

Now a new artist is in his place, and Stefano's work sat in the back room, waiting until it was claimed. The gallery head always insisted on keeping unclaimed work of the gallery artists if they forgot some of their work.

Two months and a week. That's how long it's been. Sixty-seven days. Daily life has kept me from realizing how long it really has been.

Ryan has since plead guilty and been sentenced for his attempted murder and assault. I didn't have to testify against him, and didn't have to relive that night.

My phone pinged, and I opened it since it was still in my hand.

Message from my contact titled Therapist; "Good afternoon! How are you feeling?"

I typed back "Not feeling the best. I can't stop thinking about my boyfrie" and I backspaced several letters. "I can't stop thinking about my friend that went missing."

"Have you called and asked about how his case is going again?"

I frowned. I had called police chief Phi the other day, and since I knew him from when he talked to my class a few months ago.

"Yea, they said there isn't a case again. They said he isn't missing and aren't continuing to look into it."

"I see. Are you not doing too well since they left?"

"Yeah... Maybe... I don't know. I loved him." I hesitated after I hit the send button. "I still do love him. I keep talking like he's in the past tense, but even if we were only together for a few weeks, I still love him though."

"Maybe that's a sign that you have unresolved thought processes. Do you want to talk about it tomorrow? Our appointment is Sunday, right? You've been having a hard time opening up about your friend."

I bit my lip, remembering the appointment I had scheduled. "I don't know. I mean it was because he disappeared that I started going to you. And yeah, tomorrow is our appointment, which is Sunday."

"We'll see how you feel about it tomorrow, okay? For now, try to enjoy your spring break."

"Thank you. You too."

I hit the back button, and looked over my texts again. The only ones that I had available were from my therapist, from Stefano, from Carolinn, and some various students from other classes.

I clicked on my text message exchange with Stefano for the hundredth time since I had last seen him. The last text message he sent me, replied days after I sent him one, appeared in front of me.

Me; "How are you doing? Have you talked to Carolinn?"

Stefano's reply read "No, srry. I gtg, blla. Please dnt wrry nymore."

It didn't look like his way of typing. He had always used full words and sentences. He had better punctuation than me, and I've had people ask me why I bother typing in full sentences compared to some people. And he never, ever abbreviated.

But my efforts to find him, to file a missing person report, speaking to police, and asking around weren't helping at all. He was gone, just nowhere. As though he never existed. 

My mind went to some of the stories I had read. I wondered, as astronomical as it was, if he had been taken or killed by someone. After what I had seen him do to Ryan, and some stories about how he had learned to efficiently use knives and fencing, I couldn't help but think he wouldn't be someone who was easy to kill.

Sometimes I wondered if he was even real. I would wake up from dreams that felt too real of him holding me, loving me. I would sit up once I woke, wondering if he had ever been in my life.

I sipped at my tea some more. It was a more bearable temperature now, and I set my phone down on the counter. I picked up my mug again, ignoring the glazed feeling of my tongue and the small amount of pain still coursing through my hand. I began to drink from my tea, and tried drowning my thoughts out again.

-

"Thank you..." I said quietly. I stood up from my seat, wiping away my tears.

"Of course. I think we made some progress today." said my therapist. She shook her head, small strands of black hair dancing around her face.

I sighed. "I didn't expect that to get to me too much. I've been bottling it up so much, I... I don't know."

"That's alright. I'm a therapist, so I see it plenty, hun."

I nodded. I cleared my throat, hearing her next client open the door as they did at the end of each of our sessions. I almost turned around, but I felt I didn't need to.

The rain pounded against the window, and I didn't want to think about trying to get home in this weather. While I love the cold spring rains, it isn't fun to make my way through when I have to walk a long ways.

"Have you been drawing more?" she asked, for some reason changing the subject.

"Well, no, not lately."

"Well, you should, since you're an artist." She crossed her arms as she thought, almost in a playful manner. "You're very creative. You're an intelligent girl, and we really need more people in our world like that."

I laughed quietly, turning to leave. "Well, I guess you're lucky I'm here, then, so I can let my creativity into this world."

I looked up, staring at the man standing in the doorway. I gasped, it wasn't the man that usually came in. This man had slicked back hair, a black suit and tie, sunglasses, and an earpiece.

I stumbled backwards as he stood in the doorway, like a secret service agent or a guard blocking my only means of escape.

"I'm afraid that's not what I meant." said the therapist behind me. "Your creativity isn't being noticed in this world and you aren't making anything presently. We do need people like you, and I am sorry that you're going to need to become used to a new life."

I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I yelped, jumping back away from my therapist. She was holding something that looked like a gun, or a syringe, I couldn't quite tell. I grasped at my neck, breathing heavily and beginning to stumble backwards, losing feeling in my limbs and watching the world shift oddly around me.

"I've looked up your friend and found he was selected, too, to be an artist in the new world. If you remember who you are, then you will be able to reunite with him, eventually."

My voice is garbled as I fall to the floor, unable to support my weight. My head lulls to the side on the rug, my eyes closing and the world disappearing out from underneath me.

-

I don't hear the world, or feel it, as it slips away from me. I barely manage to lift my head, gasping aloud as I regained consciousness. I sat up, looking around.

My head hurts so bad. I grasp it tightly, feeling nauseous and overwhelmingly sick. I gasped out some more, reaching for my neck where it hurt slightly.

The nightmare slipped away from me, and I looked around the room. It was a white living room, a white plush rug under my feet, and a quiet breeze coming through the open window. I blinked, staring at the window, hearing some wind chimes swaying in the soft, late summer breezes.

I shook my head. It had all just been a bad dream. Everything is okay now.

I looked down at my ensemble, a short white summer dress fitting my form. I smiled quietly, smoothing out the wrinkles in it. I wondered when I had managed to fall asleep. I looked around some more, seeing my painting supplies where I had left them.

I smiled to myself, remembering again. I remembered gathering my supplies and setting them on glass coffee table. I had even started mixing colors, then lay down on the couch as I thought about the world.

I sighed quietly, picking up some brushes, listening to the tranquil summer breezes running through my house. I was happy, and the surroundings were perfect. I decided to stand, and felt a violent sense of vertigo. I gasped quietly, grabbing the edge of my couch to stabilize myself. I trembled quietly, remembering how I had fallen over in my nightmare.

I breathed, feeling the world under my feet, looking out the window again. I walked around my living room, feeling its familiarity coming back to me.

I found a piece of mail on my counter. I must have grabbed it and brought it in before I fell asleep. I picked it up and opened it, the black intricate design standing out against the white tile of the counter. I opened the letter, reading my initials as a greeting.

"Welcome, R.O.! We are so glad to have you here in Union! Please enjoy yourself as you adjust to your new life in town. The locals are known for being sweet and caring, so don't be too shy to mingle with them and get involved with the community. Make your way to the visitor center or the town hall if you have any questions or need help adjusting to your new life. Union; we're glad to have you here!"

It wasn't signed, and it wasn't dated.

I laughed quietly. I moved in only a week ago. I remember, I decided I needed a new life. I didn't have anything keeping me in Krimson, so I might as well go somewhere new. The dreary, tiring life was too fast-paced for me, so moving to a quiet, small town sounded wonderful.

So far, it was. I could remember moving in, setting my moving boxes on the floor and waving the taxi away. I could remember unpacking and putting everything away carefully, enjoying my new home that came already furnished.

I sighed to myself again, content again. I finally had my own house, and I could do as I wished. I had achieved my dream of becoming a stay-at-home artist.

Things were going well, for once in my life. I entered my kitchen, and clicked on my new stove top kettle. I pulled out a mug and some English breakfast tea. This was time for celebration. Hopefully, this new life in Union would be the best possible opportunity, a new and clean slate away from who I used to be.


	18. Danger Signs

I walked through Union. I smiled to myself as I decided to stop at a gazebo. My hair flitted through the breeze, softly brushing against my face. The later day warmth and breezes always feel the best. I rested against the railing of the small structure, enjoying myself. I had taken to walking around the town lately, it's been helping my usual upset stomach. I've been experiencing even more cramps and pain in my stomach since I've made a home here.

I've been living in Union for several months now. Maybe even half a year. I had never been happier, and never before did I think I could feel like the way I do now. I had a stable job as a florist and as a painter. I was able to tend a wonderful garden of various flowers. I could paint and spend the day putting together bouquets of my favorite flowers all together.

I felt the world rumble underneath my feet. The wood of the platform I was on shifted and creaked as everything began to move. I shifted, grabbing onto a post to catch myself.

I glanced down at a small stream of water as large ripples bounce across the surface. _That's odd._ I thought to myself. _I don't remember ever experiencing a full earthquake here before_ _. These have been_ _going_ _on all day..._

I hummed quietly to myself, turning to walk away from the gazebo. I sighed, wondering what was on the agenda for the rest of today.

I glanced to the side, following a small line of trees and potted plants with my eyes. Another rumble met me as I put my foot down while walking. I almost lost my footing, stumbling as something happened, a few of the pots falling over.

I stood back up silently, looking around. No one else was usually here during the day, since I was able to set my own hours. Another rumble and shaking of the ground rocked through my body. I stayed there, unmoving as the aftershocks - or so I thought - continued shifting through my body.

There had been some odd tremors all day, but this was the worst. I shook of my own accord, beginning to feel frightened. These were worse than what had happened earlier today.

Once it seemed the earthquake had subsided, I stood. I swallowed, my mind swimming and some more nausea flowing through me. I leaned over and vomited, unable to do much more as I tried to stand my ground. I breathed roughly once I caught my breath, and looked at my surroundings.

Cracks and fissures were beginning to form across the ground. The paved roads were cracking and looked off for some reason. I furrowed my brow as I watched.

I pulled out my phone and opened it. I dialed the city hall emergency number as another crack formed as a smaller aftershock began again.

"Hello, city hall, how may I help you?" A voice picked up.

"Hi, I'm Rose Olian. I'm at the gazebo by the park, and there are some big earthquakes and there are cracks beginning to appear here."

"We've been hearing about that for the past few minutes. Are you somewhere you can get safe?"

"I'm a little out in the open, but I can certainly try to make my way somewhere else."

"At the moment, all we can recommend is to move towards town. Perhaps go to city hall if you can make it, if not try heading for the visitor's center. We aren't currently sure when this will pass."

"Okay, thank you so much."

Another shaking struck my area, almost knocking me down. I shuddered, beginning to feel a sense of pure fear take over me. I held my stomach, trying to quell my nausea. I need to make my way into town, I can't be sick out in the open again.

I swallowed and stood up. I shivered, feeling something cold surrounding me. I stood, looking around, staring at the area. It had just been midday, and it looked like the sun was rapidly setting over the horizon. I could still see the light of the sun, but the blue sky was shifting to black, no colors in between.

I could almost feel as something changed inside of me. Briefly, I realized I couldn't remember my name. It came back to me after a moment, Rose Olian. My memories began playing rapidly in my head, playing on repeat over and over again.

"My... My head--" I reached a hand to grip my head by my hands, crying out in pain.

Before I could recollect my surroundings, I was slammed to the ground, shoving me face first into the dirt. Something had tackled me and began hitting me. I kicked violently, hearing gunshots as something sliced deep into my side. I began screaming as pain seeped into my bones.

After a moment, something collapsed onto me as I continued to struggle. I felt something grab my wrist, sliding me out from under the dead weight. I stared as I was pulled away from a deformed dead body. I gasped aloud, seeing my own blood spattered across the pavement, lungs and throat hurting as I breathed heavily.

"It's okay, miss! I've got you!"

I turned over, seeing one of the city workers holding onto my arm. "You... You killed them..."

"They're lost, they're a thing now. You need to come with me, right fucking now."

I could feel the blood of the humanoid creature cooling rapidly on my skin. My own hot blood dripping down my left side where it had torn me almost open. It all had happened so fast, and I stood up as the city worker pulled on my arm roughly.

The darkness surrounded us almost instantly, the sun disappearing behind the horizon in the few seconds it had taken that monster to attack me. I held my right hand to my side, the worker yanking violently on my arm and pulling me along with him. The pain surged through my body, my sundress completely tattered around my back and soaking up my blood. He pulled me along as another earthquake rocked the ground we ran along.

I continued to stumble as he held me by his side. Every once in a while one of those things ran at us, or tried to grab one of us. When we saw a monster, he shot at it quickly, knocking the creature that used to be a human down or killing it.

My shock began to disappear as we found our way into town. He pulled me into a building, and I found myself stumbling across the threshold of the visitor's center. Some people glanced up as we made our way in. The worker finally released my wrist and turned me over to some other city workers that were in the main room. They grabbed onto my shoulders, yelling something about a first-aid kit and bandages.

"I'm going back out. I'll grab something a little stronger. We need to meet forward." My escort told the workers.

I could briefly hear them discussing something as I was ushered through a door and down a cement staircase. I didn't know there were underground areas in this city, but I guess now it makes a little more sense. For storage, at least, it does make a little sense. I breathed heavily, my legs beginning to fail me now that I was somewhere safe. My adrenaline began to fade and exhaustion began taking me.

"Can someone come help me? Please?" called out the worker that guided me by the shoulders.

I barely could see some familiar faces that turned towards us as we entered a cold basement. They didn't move, terrified eyes pointed towards me as they had called out. I could only imagine how I looked, torn dress and bloodied torso.

I stumbled forward, almost slipping out of the grasp of the worker. After a moment I was guided to sit down on the floor, head lulling forward, my stomach twisting as the stench of blood permeated my surroundings. I heard clicking footsteps, almost delicate coming closer.

"Here," said a male voice that approached my sitting form. "Allow me to help..."

Firm hands grasped my shoulders, someone sitting in front of me, holding me up. I could barely see anything as I blinked away the tiredness. I felt my body trembling, barely registering a purple suited man sitting in front of me.

"Thank you, just keep her sitting up." said the worker as they began putting gauze around my wounds.

"It seems she is about to fall asleep." A hand held my head up from my torso after it fell forward, allowing me to breathe again. "It is okay, miss. I am here."

I felt myself slipping away, the dark environment finally taking me. Oddly, I felt comforted by this man's voice. He sounded familiar, gentle, and almost kind. He was wearing cologne that was combating the scent of the blood around me.

I thought I could feel him leaning forward to me, hot air brushing against my ear. I could almost feel him tucking my hair back as my head was held aloft.

"I am here for you, it is okay..." whispered a breathless voice. "I won't let go of you again."  
  


-  
  


I awoke with a start. I initially tried to sit up, but a searing pain in my side kept me from doing so. I carefully leveraged myself, pulling myself up with the back of the couch.

Wait, couch? I glanced over, seeing a dark room surrounding me. However, there was an odd ring of light around the couch, illuminating me. I was covered by an almost velvet red fabric, heavy and weighing me down. I was on a couch, red leather cushioning me where I lay.

I put a hand to my head. Where had everyone gone? Where was I?

I held myself up, holding the heavy fabric against myself. I couldn't move, couldn't do much as I lay against the couch.

I looked over myself for a moment. I was still wearing my blood-soaked and tattered dress. My chest was bound, and I could feel pressure of something pressing against my left side. Whoever brought me here at least had the decency to leave me in my clothes, but cover me with this large thing of fabric. I swallowed, thinking of that man who had spoken to me before I fell asleep.

How long was I passed out? I looked around myself again, only to be greeted with the darkness still permeating me.

Ugh, I do not feel well. I placed a hand to my temple, shaking my head for a moment. What happened? What happened to Union? What... What's happened to me?

"Ah, you are awake!"

An excited voice caught my attention. I turned and looked as someone emerged from the shadows. A man stepped towards me, and for a moment I felt panicked and terrified.

He was dressed in an elegant purple suit with a red scarf and similar red gloves. He had a camera and a knife in his hands, raised slightly above his head as though to give off a sense of glory. A smile was portrayed proudly on his face. He had bangs that covered his eye, smooth hair and the rest combed back away from his face.

"Mm, my dear, you don't need to look so frightened, but I guess it's possible it's been too long."

He chuckled lowly, spinning in place as though to show himself off. He turned one heel over the other in his expensive-looking loafers as he spun slowly. He laughed some more as I watched him.

" _Mi amore,_ " he said as a foreign language filled my ears. "Are you not happy to see me?"

He moved closer to me, and I stayed silent. I swallowed, shuddering as he reached for me. I avoided his gaze, but I could see his never ending smile beginning to falter and slip into a frown.

"Rose...?"

I glanced at him as he spoke my name. "S-sorry, I'm just... I think I'm confused."

He leaned towards me, and his leather-clad hand caught my chin. An odd look of concern crossed his face. I could smell the same cologne from before, from the visitor's center, wafting over me as he moved.

I recoiled as he placed his lips to my forehead. I gasped out as pain shot through my abdomen. His eye fell despondent as it looked me over, making me hold the red velvet fabric closer.

After a few moments, he reached for me, making me back away further. I couldn't get anywhere as I was still stuck on the couch, so I cowered in terror as his hand reached me. A single finger traced along my jaw, slipping to be the back of his knuckles down my neck. I shuddered and turned away from him. The faintly touching hand slipped over my shoulder and grasped my arm, pulling it towards him. His hand gently closed around mine, holding it tightly, as though caging me to him.

"My muse, please tell me, of all things that you did not forget me."

I blinked up at the man, seeing his face unmoving, almost unfeeling, as he watched me.

"I... I don't know who you are."


	19. Four Letters, Three words

I walked through the gallery, allowing one foot to be placed in front of the other.

_"How? How can you not remember me?!" the man cried out once I answered._

_"I... I don't know, I just..."_

_"After everything, dio mio, you have to go and lose yourself?!"_

I looked at some pictures hanging in the hallway I turned down. They were unexpected, for a gallery, but they were something to look at and think about at least.

_"Maybe calm down, just... Start from the beginning..."_

_"There isn't a beginning to start from!"  
_

_I raised a hand, but he grabbed it before I could gesture for him to settle down. He made an angry grumble, releasing my hand and stepping back. He stormed off into the darkness, leaving me alone again.  
_

I ran my fingers along the wallpaper as I explored. It was painful, almost every step leading me to feel pain shooting through my side. But it was at least better, at least to me, than laying on a couch with a giant spotlight trained on me.

_That man eventually approached me a few minutes later, sitting down on the couch next to me. He sat down a glass of red wine and a small plate of food._

_"Eat, bella. You must regain your strength."_

_I was hesitant, and ignored the gnawing feeling of hunger. He watched me with baited breath, a calmed look across his face._

_Eventually he sighed, then picked up the wine and tipped some into his mouth. Once he swallowed without hesitation, he picked up small samplings of food and ate some as well. He chewed, swallowed, and turned the fork towards me._

_"I am not hungry tonight, as I have too much work to do." He waved a finger slightly, and brushed his fingers through his bangs. "But I hope that will prove to you that I do not intend to harm you."_

I slid my fingers across a gilded frame. A picture titled "Bouquet" sat before me. A small golden plaque beneath it, hammered into the wall as though the picture was meant to sit there forever. I wondered if the piece had been manipulated in Photoshop, or if they were somehow real.

I heard a click behind me, making me turn around. There was nothing there, making me swallow and wonder if it was possible for any ghosts to be in Union. That is, if I was still in Union.

I glanced over the blue dress, reddened by blood and rose petals cascading down. I looked as a gust of wind seem to carry them in motion away from the woman's body. I saw the scissors in her hand, a mask, or what could be her face, in another. She leaned elegantly against a table, silent elegance in portrayal in her existence.

I sighed, thinking to myself. These were all pricking at the back of my mind, but I couldn't reach them in the darkness. I had seen some of these pictures before, but where or when continually escaped me.

I turned and continued down the hallway. I kept exploring the empty, darkened building, hoping to find some shred as to who that man was. I tried to find the answers as to why he, these pictures, and my own life kept escaping me.

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

"Son of a bitch!" I shouted aloud.

I threw my enlarger across the room, anger taking hold of me.

"How?!"

I tore down a clothes line that held drying pictures, scattering still developing photos and used gloves.

" _How?!_ "

I picked up a blurry image of one of the men that had come to Union. I tore it in half and threw it into the sink.

" _How can she not remember me?!_ "

I stood in the silence of my dark room, extending it further and making it turn into a hallway. I had been granted the most wonderful gift, finding I was able to shape this world as I pleased. I had everything I could have possibly asked for.

I sank to my knees. I buried my face in my hands, screaming incoherently. I jumped between English and Italian with reckless abandon, just wanting whatever was listening to know how much agony I was in.

Was this some sort of twisted fate? My price for the ability to create my work?

Her memories for unlimited materials.

Was this his doing? That man...

No, he was even less than that. If _he_ was behind this, I would slice him into pieces where he stood the next time he faced me.

He promised me everything I could ever want, for that girl. The little girl in pink pajamas and a short black bob of hair. He called her "the core," and she was apparently far too important to allow to wander the streets.

I grumbled to myself, turning to a counter as I stood. " _(My dear beauty... Please, I would do anything for you, and you knew it. Did you forget me because you came here, to this town? Or did they manipulate you, like they tried to do to me?)_ "

I knew my pride was too strong to admit it aloud, but I had forgotten who I was. I forgot my work, what inspired me most. I forgot my life when I came to this town, and I couldn't remember the one person who had stolen my affections.

She was living in Union with me, and I didn't even notice.

I slid my hand over one of my pieces. The proof of her as my art sitting next to the piece of the man in the chair. Ryan Turner, I believe. It was cathartic to kill someone who had the same name as the man who hurt her. I still need to make a nameplate for this work, but for now I could be satisfied.

I quietly inhaled. Counting to ten, slowly exhaling to calm myself. I smiled down at her picture. She was here, at least. The night I had been taken, I had simply taken her home and asked her to be my date for the next time my gallery showed. Once she was safely home, I decided to go to a Mu Center, or whatever they were called. I didn't want my correspondence with them to go any further.

_"Stefano..."_

I jerked my head to where I heard her. There was nothing there, almost as usual.

_"A-ah..."_

I closed my eye, pushing my hands into my head.

"N-no, no not again..."

_"Ah, p-please..."_

"Stop it, stop... You're not real..."

_"I love you! Ah, I... I love you!!"_

The sound she made as her orgasm crashed over her body took over my head. Our first night together, haunting me. Soon would come my second night with her, in the gallery. Then would be her shrieking. The sound of her trying to scream when almost no one could hear. The time I wasn't there to help her. The time I doubted her, the time I thought she had instantly went to someone else. I had abandoned her that night, and the terror in her eyes has been following me like a demon in the night.

_"I... I love you..."_

The ache I've been plagued with. The yearning for her touch. The want for her voice.

I backed away from her photo.

_I love you._

_"Stefano..."_

_I love you!  
_

I covered my face, seething in anger.

_"I... I l-love you, Stefano..."_

I slammed my fist on the counter. I could almost hear the shattering of my heart, the aching feeling like it would kill me.

" _Bella...!_ " I shouted.

I fell to the ground, holding onto the counter as my knees hit the tile. I held my hand over my mouth, feeling a burn in my heart. I tried to keep from hyperventilating.

It wasn't so gentle, so soft. Not anymore. It burned in pain, cracking my heart open and making it burst again and again and again.

" _(My muse,)_ " I muttered in my native tongue. " _(My dear, my beauty, my one...)_ "

_"Stefano--!"_

"I know, my dear, I know."

I slid my hand from my mouth. I pressed it over my chest. I could feel my heartbeat through the skin, beating its way out of my chest.

A few days ago, I had brought her to my gallery. I lay her along a couch and placed a curtain over her. I couldn't keep from posing her briefly, so excited my muse has returned for me. I took several pictures of her beaten and bloodied body as she slept.

It angered me that someone has hurt her, but I felt turmoil as she looked so... Beautiful.

Someone had gone over my work. I laughed at the time; it felt like "L. H. O. O. Q." in a way, someone adding a new part to my art and throwing her back into the world. Oh, my poor muse stumbling through that door so bloodied and frightened. Oh, how lovely that she was so frightened she couldn't recognized me...

But now I know so much better. I didn't want to know better.

I wanted my Rose.

The woman who cracked open the cavity in my chest and created the most wonderful art through me. The woman who would force me to make art from myself if I wished to see it. I wanted the Rose who kissed me, and made me question myself. I wanted the woman who made me hurt when I wasn't with her.

I wanted the Rose that trusted me. The Rose that called me in the night to tell me her nightmare, the Rose that held me when someone fired a gun and shot off fireworks.

We had already been through so much when they took me. We had been staying at each others house every other day, and she had stayed with me for so many days before I had gone.

I walked away from my red room, slipping a piece of paper out of my pocket. I slid out the black letter from the envelope. I sneered at it, having received the duplicate letter that ensnared me in this town after the world began to fall apart and I discovered my gift.

I remembered leaving her home, and going back to mine to get everything I needed. I decided to get some work around my house done now that I could relax since my gallery had been unveiled. After I had changed my sheets, I found that letter again. I read over the letter and decided I should head to one of those centers to tell them I wasn't interested. That was the only way I could opt out of that service, since they had such strange exiting details.

When I entered the Mu Center I had found, I walked to the receptionist and gave my full name. After I began discussing leaving the letters program, or whatever it was I was involved with.

And after that I couldn't remember a thing.

I woke in a place I somehow recognized. It was like a dream, a studio house with two floors. I could remember almost immediately weeks of moving into a new home. I had boxes of belongings to put away, and a welcome letter waiting on the table.

I couldn't remember what had changed my mind. I couldn't remember what made me decide to move to a new town. I couldn't remember more than being excited on moving into a new town.

I couldn't remember my Rose.

I grabbed my white pen out of my pocket. I growled quietly to myself in my anger, and threw the letter on a side table. I defiled the letter in my anger, scrawling violently across the paper. "LIES! ALL LIES!"

They lied to me about opting out of that ludicrous program. _He_ lied that I would get everything I wanted. He lied about what he would give, about his religious front. He lied about even caring about what I wrote about in my letters.

He only gave a damn when he realized I was useful. He tried to sing me praise, false interest and fake encouragement.

I slammed the letter on the side table in the hallway. I walked away, my will slamming the metal bars down to lock it away forever. No one would see their words again, no one would be fooled with false promises and fake gods.

I walked away, feeling a little better now that I've ruined some of his "perfection." His perfection is useless and he was only a simpleton. I laughed quietly. I will speak to him, I will confront him. I will force him to give me back my muse's memories. I will force him to let go of her.

If he wanted to barter, so be it. I will get what I truly want, and I will not allow her to slip away from me again.


	20. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano confronts the man he believes is to blame for Rose's amnesia. Amidst the anger, he is given a new ability and runs into a newcomer who has come to disrupt his work.

My footfalls along the hallway resonated along the stone walls and paved floor. I hadn't been in this hall for several days, and I haven't had this much determination since I found my calling.

After several more paces, the walls fell away and lead into a larger stone room. I didn't bother to emote, knowing the anger burning away inside of me would tell him why I was there.

"Stefano!" said the man before me, opening his palms towards me and smiling a fake, unmoving smile. "Have you had any success in finding the Core?"

"I am still searching, but I'm here for another manner." I said, my own voice tight and holding back a shout.

He made a noise of curiosity as he looked over me. "And what would that be?"

I sneered at the man, though it wouldn't serve me well to get my point across. He could read even someone like me without the need to show my emotions.

"You have promised me everything, and you have promised me it all would not be held off until I brought you the core." I gripped my knife tightly in my hand, unwilling to allow him to think I wouldn't kill him instantly. "And still, the one thing I do desire is lying in my domain, and has completely forgotten me."

"That would not be my doing." He frowned at me. "Even my abilities are not fully understood. The world has likely corrupted her memories when the core disappeared. That is why she is so important."

I continued to sneer at him. "I do not believe you." I raised my knife, pointing it at him. "She would not forget me without someone else's influence!"

"Perhaps not, but it was not because of me."

I began to walk forward, becoming tired of his lies. I stepped into a puddle of dark black fluid, and it instantly erupted into flames. I jerked and sped several feet back in a split second.

Safely away from the fire, I tilted the knife at him. Before I could speak, his louder voice surrounded me.

"If you continue this madness, I will ensure you will never have the materials for your art ever again." He lowered his head, tilting it down as he did when he was speaking low. It was a way to manipulate those that would fall for his charm, a movement that tells them he has something to say that is only for them to hear. "I can see this girl you have become infatuated with in your mind, Stefano. I can see her importance. If you continue to defy me, I will ensure she will meet with a much more unpleasant fate than any you could give her."

He raised his head, holding his cane in front of him, standing to show his prowess and complete idealization of his own life. I lowered my knife, knowing it wouldn't be of use against his use of illusions and nightmares.

"Why would you even bother telling me something like that?"

"You will bring me the core. If you defy me once again, I will use the stable core to destroy her memories." A smiled pursued his lips as he continued to speak, ignoring my question. "Perhaps I will destroy your domain and make her watch under my care. But I shall not, and you will be able to live the rest of your lives together, as you create your art, and I continue to keep the world ever expanding within this town."

I was silent. "How do I know you aren't holding back more from me."

He sighed loudly. "If you so wish to have more for now, you may. The surface of this world is now yours to change. You do not have to rely on the domain I have given you, and you can create anything you so choose. This shall no longer be limited to what you take a photograph of. You may create your sculptures and if you so choose, they will come to life and do your bidding."

I paused, thinking for a little bit. "If what you have said is real, I'll get you the girl. Once she is in my grasp, I shall bring her. When I bring her, I expect you to fulfill your promise completely. Give me my muse's memories, and allow us the space to coexist together."

"And so, you shall have it. First, bring the core to me." He waved his hand, lifting it in a gesture. Something pooled at the bottom steps of his platform, coming out of the ground. "Here is a gift, do not disappoint me again."

A four-legged creature slid out of the ground smoothly. Two creatures fuzzed together, two of the changed and tampered with humans that now roamed the streets, emerging as a four-legged being. It was almost something from my dreams, but was made out of one of the creatures I did not want to go anywhere near. Two of these four-legged creatures walked around me, and rested on the ground by my feet. These seemed to be something he had made for the sake of being ground beings, something to always bow before him in his presence. I could feel them morphing to my will, and stood as I mentally commanded them to.

I closed my eye, and turned away. I knew better than to agree to his terms, but at least he was trying to show he meant what he said. I knew better than to give any credence to what he said now, so I said nothing as I began to walk away from him. The creatures followed, and they felt more like watch dogs than they did something I had control over.

The walls crumbled around me, the stones and carved areas disappearing as I made my way back down the hall. The surroundings disappeared altogether, and I found myself walking through the door to the empty rooms of my domain. There was still much I had to create, but I wasn't able to focus on that entirely. Not just yet.

If bringing this young girl to this man is what it took to have my precious _bella_ back to me, then so be it. Once she remembers me, I can keep her by my side, teach her how to assist me in making my creations.

I walked through the door in front of me, flashing forward every few steps to save time, leading to a hallway I had constructed to hold my works. I passed through, finding one of my most recent works.

William Baker. I laughed to myself as he stood, frozen in time. His body constantly in the never ending sequence of death. I had placed a nameplate by the door that lead to this room, turning the entire setting into my work.

I looked over the camera I had used to capture this work at the exact proper angle, leaving it standing in case I ever needed to capture this work again. I could hear the last few moments of his scream playing out over again, quieted as my favorite song played over him. I slipped my hand over it, glancing through the viewfinder again. Of course, the angle was perfect, and the lighting of the frozen box I had stopped him in tied the scene perfectly. I smiled to myself, watching his death play out slowly for the half second it had been captured in. The arc of his blood was my favorite part of the portrayal. The way his head whipped back had created the most marvelous stream of blood, and now everyone could appreciate it as I did. The rose petals to the right of the image tied it together perfectly, and balanced the image exactly as it was meant to be seen.

I certainly am one of the greatest artists in this world. No one could compare to what I create, my imagination guiding the most wondrous creations. And now I can continue to create my work forever.

I waved off the guard dogs Theodore had sent to watch me. They slunk into the darkness, and I could see them seep into the floor as they disappeared. I felt my will surrounding them, and knew I would be able to call them when I needed. They are now able to do as I say, and it was a wonderful feeling knowing I had a new kind of power, the ability to bring my work to life.

A smile crossed my face. I must show my muse. Even if she no longer remembers me, I shall entrance her with my inspiration.

I could feel her walking through my gallery, sensing some of the people who had been captured in the hallways that held my work. Her soul had grown more noticeable in my mind, and I could keep watch of her as long as she was in my domain. She was awake and walking along the hallway that had the duplicates of my work from the real world. I wondered if she knew she had already seen them, or if they helped her remember.

I wondered what she thought of them now. I began to move to exit the room William Baker was portrayed, when I noticed something new. A new soul had appeared in my realm, and I wasn't certain where they had come from. I frowned, seeing them in my mind's eye walking closer to this room. I moved myself away from it, watching as the world disappeared away from me, reappearing as I stood still.

Now I stood on the balcony overlooking my work. I stared down, watching a rugged-looking man walk through the door. He turned away from the images of mine that had been hanging on my wall, turning to the ever-dying William Baker.

"What the hell...?" I could hear slip from him mouth.

He glanced over the sculpture I had created, watching him push his hand into the box I had constructed. He didn't seem to notice at first that he moved slower once completely engulfed in it.

"The team leader... One bullet, straight through the head." He muttered quietly.

I grumbled to myself. I didn't like the feeling I was getting as I watched this man. He made his way out of the frozen box I had made, looking briefly through my camera. I watched him back away from it with a look on his face that said he didn't like my work.

He looked up towards the ceiling as he was looking around the room more. As I realized he had seen me, I pushed myself away. I found myself outside the door the man had come in. I angrily walked forward, then closed and locked it.

I heard the doorknob being grabbed and jiggled. I allowed myself a small laugh as I realized he had tried to leave this situation.

This man was going to be fun to turn into a sculpture as well. I could almost feel the fear beginning to come off in waves. He was uncertain, and a growing sense of helplessness began to find its home in his mind. I could not wait to transform it further.

I watched in my mind as he began to walk through the room, a could feel him making his way into my darkroom and wandering around the lower floors of my domain. The winding hallways and maze-like rooms would leave him guess for a little while. For now, however, I have much more pressing matters to deal with.

Deciding to play with the man some more, I manipulated the world around me to allow me access to a phone several floors away. I dialed the number for the telephone several levels down, closer to my sculpture. It began ringing, and I could faintly hear the bells chiming from several rooms and a staircase away. After a while as the man tentatively moved to the phone, as I could see in the back of my mind. He picked up the phone, making the phone stop ringing down the staircase a few rooms over, and I could hear the click on my end.

"Hello?" he asked with what sounded like a hesitant tone.

I couldn't help but chuckle as his tone registered. I didn't find the words I had expected to say to him, so instead I put a finger on the lever that held the receiver. The phone clicked and disconnected. I lay down the phone, watching it slide over the edge. I did not want to be bothered by the ringing phone in case he decided to call the previous number.

I turned and began walking down the hallway. One step forward, I walked into a new hallway, watching it unfold before me. I grasped forward, seeing a woman who had been in the visitor's center continuing to run through my world. She had cornered herself and was walking quickly, but once she had seen me she began running.

It was futile, of course, but I could not help but revel in her fear. I managed to watch her some more before giving in and beginning to give chase. I watched her run down the blackened hallway, heading towards a wooden and glass door.

She slammed her figure into the glass as someone walked up to it. As I neared, I saw it was that same man that had just come across my sculpture.

"Help! Help me!" the blonde woman screamed to him.

Instantly I shifted her away from the door, pulling her diagonally away. It was fast enough that it knocked the air out of her, silencing her for the next few seconds. Once she was far away from the door, in a more secluded area, she began to scream as I followed her. She would make wonderful material for my next sculpture. I pulled her into a vacant room and threw her into a table.

"Come, my new pet." I said as she continued to scream. "That will not help you. But you will be something marvelous."

She shrieked as I now stood before her, knowing that my fast movements forward were not something most had the pleasure of seeing. With a smile, I knocked her out with the butt of my knife. Her fear was wonderful, and it was inspiring me to make something new.

And so I shall create. I sped my body up, or slowed down time around me, it was almost unclear how my abilities appeared to others. I pulled her into another room with my ability to appear wherever I chose. She wasn't able to react as I picked her up and placed her on a table.

Now in my element, I began to tie her down, slowing my consciousness down to their normal stream of time. She shrieked as she realized her new predicament, and I turned away as I could hear her break into sobs.

I hushed her, approaching with my favorite tools.

"Do not cry, now." I said quietly. "You will become art, my pet."

She started crying out louder as I raised my knife. I smiled and plunged it into her skin, an eruption of blood spilling from her torso. I carved through her skin, tearing through her flesh, and marveling as I sculpted her. She shall be the finishing part of my piece, Rebirth. I just needed one more flower maiden, and the piece would be complete.

The amount of arms I had needed to create the main focus left me with so many leftover parts. I was thinking of what to do with them. Now I know what I will use them for. Once I have finished this ongoing piece, I will put Theodore's newest "gift" to practice.

I will create a new sculpture, and I shall bring it to life. And once I am finished, I will use it to kill the new intruder, and I will use it to impress my lovely muse.

Once I have finished all of that, I shall find that girl. Once I have my muse back in my arms, I will not allow her to forget me ever again. I will hold her and never let her go.

And I know, I just know so well, she will never want to leave me once she sees my newest works.


	21. Pain

I smiled as I watched the man run down the hallway. The elongated darkroom continued to lengthen as I walked forward. My will opened the doors, and I watched his panic forcing him forward, despite stumbling almost each pace he took.

My creation, Guardian, laughed as she ran along after him. I smiled as I watched her chasing him, feeling my own strength keeping her held together.

I stopped walking, chuckling in my excitement, raising my knife up and throwing it. It hit it's mark, landing in his shoulder, sinking deeply into his skin. He cried out in pain, falling to the floor. Guardian began catching up to him, and she made move to do what I built her for. I turned on my heel to allow her to finish him off.

A hallway lay before me, leading to an open room where more of my work stood alone. I began walking along, then hesitated. Through my mind's eye, I could see that man pull that knife from his shoulder and slice at Guardian. I raised a hand to my neck, almost feeling the knife plunge into my own skin. It was just enough, and I could feel my grip on the living sculpture waver for a moment, making her slow down getting up. This, unfortunately, allowed the newcomer enough time to spring to his feet and make his way through the doors I had initially walked into the room.

In anger, I shifted the door's destination. He ran out of my domain, Theodore's promise that I would have more influence over the rest of Union holding true. I didn't know where he was now, and I couldn't care. He caused rage to pulse through me, not realizing that I had given him a tool to fight back.

How dare he harm my work that I had just brought to life?! How dare he hurt my precious creation!

I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose deeply. Once I had allowed myself to calm down, I began walking forward carefully.

I entered the open room, seeing red velvet curtains hanging from the ceiling, hiding some of my work around the room. I walked around each of them, enjoying the work I had brought with me to this world. I enjoyed staring at each of my pieces, admiring all of the details I had placed in.

This part of my gallery was dedicated to the work that I had created before entering this world. It had been nearly 6 or 7 months since I had come here, so it was refreshing to see them again. I slid a finger across one of the frames leading to another hallway.

I continued walking down, wishing to immerse myself in my work some more before being able to see her. My muse, Rose, standing further down the hallway, staring at each of my pieces. I can feel her moving around my gallery, almost like I can sense her. It wasn't like being touched, but more like being able to sense movement in water. I felt her moving through the gallery for several hours, struggling from time to time due to her inflicted wounds.

However, she hasn't been moving for a while now. She was still standing, staring at a single image at the end of the hallway. Every once in a while, she would freeze and stare at the images I displayed here. Now, she seemed to stop and stare at a particular one.

As I approached, I could see her standing before it, back turned to me. The largest image on the wall, facing me.

Her image is what she stared at, the image I called "Midnight Dance." The first developed image that captured her essence. I hadn't been given the opportunity to capture more of it, despite how much I desired it.

I approached her slowly, putting my camera up to my face. Lovely... I thought to myself.

I began to take some pictures, initially speeding my time up so she would not notice. She was wearing a long red dress I had left for her. I wondered how long it had really taken her to change into it; I hadn't been in my domain when she changed.

After a few exposures, I allowed myself to slow down again, wanting her to turn to me. I watched her as she turned around and looked at me. Her face looked surprised, but she didn't look as scared as when she first woke up. She didn't seem to really look at me, but passed me instead.

I lowered my camera, watching her. She looked... Sad. As we stared at each other, I just stood there, trying to piece together what I was actually meant to do.

I approached her after a moment. She turned her head and wiped at her face. I hadn't realized there were tears cascading down her face until I could see them reflecting the light from the one trained on her picture.

"What is wrong?" I asked as I reached her.

"E-excuse me, sorry..." she muttered, wiping at her face with her hands.

I turned my head at an angle, studying her. I hadn't had the chance to speak to her since she woken and made clear she was afraid of me. It was nice to hear her speak to me again, but I couldn't help but feel she thought I was a stranger.

"What is wrong, my dear?" I asked her again.

She turned away from my gaze, hiding her face with her hair initially. "It's so, so stupid..." She sniffed slightly. "But it's just so sad."

"This photo?"

"Y-yeah." Her head shook as though to clear something. "I don't know what it is, I don't know why it makes me sad."

"I don't believe it's meant to be sad." I turned to it and let myself remember that night again. The way she held her pose, the way her head was aloft and watching the lights. I could remember the way the image fit together in my mind, developing further the longer I spent with her.

"I know. She looks so hopeful, so... Surprised."

I glanced at her again, watching as she put a hand to her temple.

"I-I don't know... It just looks so familiar, but I..."

She blinked as she looked back up at me. I didn't blink as she looked at me.

"Sorry, I'm just having difficulty remember where I've seen it."

I couldn't bring myself to react, no movement, watching her with baited breath. I prayed silently, wishing she would remember. My eyelid flickered as it began to burn slightly, and I realized I hadn't blinked for a moment.

"It's beautiful, though." she hurriedly said. She giggled in a way that said she was trying to lighten the situation. "I'm not sure it's what I would want in my home, but... It's so well composed, I don't think I've seen this many full-bodied pictures. I like the way this one is portrayed, though."

"It's one of my favorite pieces of art." I replied, finally allowing myself to react. I blinked away the dryness that had accumulated in my eye and turned back to her photo. "It is among the few I feel most prideful about."

"This is your work?" she asked, looking at me.

"Of course." I laughed off her question. "The work here is what I deem as perfect, but I do have a select few favorites. However, it pains me..."

I turned to her, making her startled as she watched me take a step forward. She initially backed up, and a small amount of fear crossed her face.

"That you cannot remember this piece. You were so excited to see it, and were so surprised when I told you the subject."

"O-oh?" she stumbled over her reaction, trying to avoid my gaze.

"Mm-hmm, my dear, you do not remember all the work you went through for it. This is the image I captured of you."

She froze, and turned to the picture again. Something shifted in her eyes, as though recognition had set in further. I saw her eyebrows twitch, and I could feel her confusion as it set into her.

"This... This is me?"

"Yes. It is you."

I reached forward, grasping her right hand in my left. She jumped as I brought it to me, leaning over just a little. I closed my eye, pressing my lips to the back of her hand. I let my lips linger against her skin, alight with the excitement of being able to touch her again. The barricade of my gloves kept my hand from feeling hers, but it still made me elated.

"That's how it all started." I whispered as I pulled away. "Just something so small. An hour of talking to each other, and a kiss on the hand."

I released her hand, standing up straight. She was stuck in the spot she stood, unwilling to move. I slid a finger down her face, brushing strands of hair out of her eyes. It was slightly unkempt and frazzled, and I wasn't surprised given she had been here for several days without a shower or a proper bed.

It occurred to me that I had been cruel to her in this way. There weren't beds here, in my area of what was left of Union. Only hallways and shadows and art. I sighed quietly, sliding my hand against her face.

" _(My muse... Forgive me...)_ "

"Sorry? I don't think I understand..."

"Forget it." I pulled my hand away. "I was just speaking to myself."

She grabbed my hand as I began to drop it. I watched her look down at her hand, as though surprised at her own actions. She looked up at me as though searching my face for answers.

I saw her eyes beginning to well up with tears. She pulled away and backed up several steps. She almost walked into the wall, stopping about a foot before doing so.

"Sorry. S-sorry." she muttered again and again. "I don't know what's come over me."

I straightened my spine more, beginning to walk towards her. She gasped and initially stepped back.

"D-don't--! Don't touch me."

I stopped moving, watching her.

"Sorry, I just..."

She closed her eyes tightly, and hiccuped as she tried to catch her breath and calm down.

"This environment is just too... Too much. After what I've seen, I..."

I turned my head again, trying to show her curiosity.

"Have you...?" She glanced up, then turned away.

"Hmm?" I tried to encourage her to speak.

"These are... Your works...?"

I knew exactly what she had realized. I already know what she's seen. My false voice fell away, and I let my real self show through. The facade falling away seemed to startle her as I answered. I didn't realize I had been putting on an act at first, thinking I didn't need to around her. But now that she's forgotten me, I understood I had felt the need to put on a show for her.

"Yes."

"You..." she turned away, and I could feel it.

She was afraid. My impulse was to encourage it, to make her more afraid. I wanted to stoke the fear twisting in her, to make her run, and play with her. I wanted to turn her into a wonderful piece of art, her fear causing a thousand images to burst forward in my mind.

"Did you create all the art in this place?"

I watched the flicker of her throat, the scent of her fear almost overpowering me. I wanted to know what she felt. The familiarity in the back of her mind, the awe in regards to the beauty of my art, and the fear twisting inside of her.

I wanted to touch her. To hold her. I wanted to hear more of her praise, of her excitement.

"Yes."

I stepped forward, making her back up. She hit the wall and pressed herself into it.

"Did... Did you..." She struggled to find her words.

"Yes."

I raised a hand, brushing her hair and patting her head with my left hand. She flinched away, and I moved my hand further into her hair.

"I caused the death of those men."

I leaned towards her, making her look away from me. She gasped, turning her head away from me as I stilled a few inches from her face.

"And the sculpture you've seen was not fake."

I watched her as her throat moved, swallowing roughly. "P-please..."

I ached for her. I wanted her to remember me.

"H-how am I not dead, then?" she whimpered.

"Because I..."

I turned my head away, allowing my mouth to stay open slightly. I couldn't even bring myself to think of what I wanted to say, the words that sat on the tip of my tongue. I yearned for her to say something more, to hear her say my name.

She slid away, and began running. I watched her as she ran down the hallway, too slow to grab her before she moved. If I wasn't distracted, if I wasn't so caught up in this woman...

I flashed forward at first to follow her. But then I stopped. I let her run away, feeling her take my heart with her.

I watched the floor, wishing to see a trail of blood leading from my chest. Of course, there wasn't one, but it didn't matter. I closed my eye, turning away from her image. I ached for her, feeling a hollowness that followed me for the past several months.

Even though I could not remember her, I still felt the loneliness of her absence. I wasn't myself, and I wasn't creating my real work while I was here in Union.

I had realized a few days ago how much of a lie I had been living here. I especially learned what I had dreaded realizing; I had seen my Rose several times while I was here. She had come into the community several months after me, and had become a business owner. I had gone to her shop for supplies, always using roses and some other flowers in my work. We had made small talk, but it seemed she didn't remember me at all despite this.

I glanced back up at her running down the hallway. I sighed, speeding my body again, allowing my surroundings to slow down. I grasped the world I resided in, shifting our surroundings. I added a new room, mentally shaping and changing things, adding what amounted to my bedroom from my old home.

A door formed in the wall next to my muse. I watched it pull out of the wood, then placed myself in front of her. Once I was standing in front of her, I let time resume around me. She continued her sprinting, but slowed down as she saw me, gasping. I raised my hands, then moved them in front of me.

"I'm not going to hurt you, _bella._ " I bit my cheek as I kept using the nickname I used to use as I thought of her. "You are far too special to me."

She backed up at first, and I dashed at her. She jerked back, startled. I grasped her hand tightly as she lifted it as a reflex. I pulled her to my body, holding her close.

The aching hurt me. The wanting hurt. I held her to my chest, seeking relief as she stood there.

I pulled her into the room I had just created. She froze when she saw it was a bedroom. I shushed her as she began to try and run again, holding her arm with a death grip. I closed the door once we entered, and she clawed at my hand.

"I am not attempting to hurt you, my dear." I said lowly. "You have been sleeping in the hallways, and I have been neglecting your health for much too long."

She turned and looked at me, terror in her eyes. "Wh... Why are you doing this?"

I thought for a moment. "I care about you. You would understand if you could remember me. We were close, I think, so I still wish to care for you."

"But why me?"

I frowned. If there was a proper answer to give her, I didn't know it. Without a sound, I released her hand. She moved to the door, and I watched her go again. I closed my eye, wishing to forget the heartache she was causing me.

But I didn't believe it would ever go away.

I teleported myself in front of her. She crashed into me, knocking us both to the floor. I cursed quietly, trying to ignore the pain branching through my head. She jumped away from me, beginning to stand.

"Do you really think," I said as I sat up, "if I wanted you hurt, I wouldn't have several days ago?"

She froze as I spoke.

"Do you think I would create a room, just for you? Do you think I would put this much effort in trying to speak to you?"

She backed away again, and I stood up. I stepped quickly forward, speeding myself forward and standing just an inch away.

My voice began to tighten in rage.

"Do you believe," I said, barely above a whisper, "I would tell you how I care, how I did not want you to know what I create until you remember?"

I reached for her. I grabbed her by her chin, looking her over.

"You have stood by my side before you gained my trust. You stood against my critics for me. You knew what I did, and still let me make you into my work."

I lowered my hand and fit it over hers. I lifted her arms and slid them over my shoulders. She was too scared to move now, so I was able to do as I pleased. But I wanted to respect her as I held out hope she would break through and remember.

"Why...?" she whispered.

"You loved me." I leaned down, my face close to hers. "You loved me and wouldn't stand to see me hurt. You didn't ask for anything more than comfort, never anything physical or emotional."

She opened her mouth, but I wouldn't listen. I pressed my lips to hers, and she gasped, dragging air from my lungs. I intertwined my fingers in her hair. I needed relief. I needed her love.

I dipped her head back, pulling her body to me. I felt her hands rest on my head, one looped around the back of my neck. Her breath mingled with mine, hot air mixing together in our mouths. I held her close, an arm around her waist to keep her to me.

I slid my lips from hers. Her eyelids fluttered open and looked into my available one, silent and no longer fearful. She sighed quietly, her breath dancing around my face. I yearned for one thing, and I couldn't stop myself this time.

" _Ti amo, bella mia_." I muttered, closing my eye.

I felt something press against my lips, making my eye open. She was kissing me, eyes closed and brow furrowed. I lowered my eyelid and kissed her back, holding her tighter. Her fingers grabbed my hair tightly, pulling me to her.

"Stefano..." I heard her quietly whisper. "I-I'm so sorry, I--"

I kissed her again, pulling her back to me. Her tongue touched mine, and a slight rancid taste met me. I didn't care, I just needed her.

"I love you." she whispered as I pulled away for breath.

I jerked up, seeing her looking me in the eye. I realized she had just used my name, something she'd said she didn't remember. Before I could think, she kissed me again, pulling me to meet her in the middle. The quiet sound of her lips clicking against mine urged me for more.

"Welcome back, my dear. I missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly, this chapter happened to be uploaded on Valentine's day! Completely unexpected, but I'm happy it was! This one has been a long time coming.


	22. The Girl

After some discussion and some longer, much needed touches and kisses, I coaxed my Rose to lay down and sleep. After a while, she convinced me to sleep with her.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked when I said I'd been creating and using my power since Union fell apart.

"Several days, likely." I laughed it off. "Maybe even a week now."

She pulled me from my sitting position to down on top of her, on the bed. For a moment, I thought I had crushed her because she didn't move. When I began to sit up, she held tighter, with a quiet sound of defiance. After another moment I laughed and held her back.

"I'm not gonna let you make yourself sick, no matter what you do to me." she said in a playful tone.

"Oh, I guarantee you're going to deal with my wrath in the future."

I pulled away from her, moving her arms off of me. I slipped off my scarf and pulled my suit jacket off, placing them over the foot of the bed. I pulled off my shoes and set them on the ground. I stood on the cold floor, moving the sheets off of her and slipping into bed with her.

I'd cleaned her wound and rebound her chest with fresh bandages, and aside from her underwear, she wasn't wearing anything else. She hummed happily, and wrapped her arms around me despite the fact I hadn't changed for bed. I pulled the sheets up to our shoulders to combat the cold of the room. I had expected to simply wait for her to fall asleep in the safety of my arms, then go on my way to create the works I desired.

Instead, I found myself talking with her for an extended time. She yawned and stretched against me quite often, and it only made me realize how tired I really was. My head dipped against her, resolving to roll over and pull her on top of me. She had gasped and yelped quietly as I moved, but rubbed her head into my chest as I pet her hair.

"So, what are we going to do, then?" she whispered in her sleepy voice. "I don't even remember how I got here."

"Nor do I. When I left your home, I just remember going to meet someone and ask being let go from a letter program, and then I was here."

She nodded silently. "I just... I think I remember going to a therapist's meeting, but after that meeting ended, I was here, in a new home and being thanked for moving here."

I shook my fingers through her hair, removing a snag that inhibited the path through it. "To be clear, I do remember how I missed you. I didn't remember you, my dear, but I realized some time during my stay here that I was missing something."

"I'm sorry for running again..." She yawned, vocalizing quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You did not. I was attempting to be patient with you. I knew it would all go downhill once you found my newest works."

"I... Don't know how I feel about them yet."

I shifted myself, holding her still on my chest. "Go ahead, I won't be upset. I value your opinions, my muse."

"It's, well... I think it's a little different seeing your work portraying sculptures or staged scenes with dead people... But it's a little more unnerving seeing them in the instant of death and untouched otherwise."

I nodded, eye closing as my head lay back.

"I don't know if I find them as beautiful as you do. I guess I was slightly disconnected before, that your work somehow wasn't as deadly as it is. I mean, I know you use people you've killed to further your work, but I just didn't expect... Well, I guess I didn't expect to see them so up close and personal."

I laughed quietly. "It all becomes all too real, no?"

She nodded against my chest. "I'm still open to listening to your... process... But I... I might need more time..."

She went silent and I looked down after some time passed. She was fast asleep, laying on my chest. I chuckled quietly, laying back again. I reached down and slid the sheets up to her head, given they had slipped to the dip in her back.

Eventually, I found myself dipping into sleep with her. It was dark, dreamless, and went by quickly. My dear muse, making me sleep sounder than I had for the past half of the year.

Once I awoke, I blinked the dreariness from my eyes. I sighed, stretching for a moment, and sat up. My torso was weighed down by something heavy, keeping me from completing this action. I looked at the body wrapped around my waist, taking a few moments to realize it was my dear muse.

My Rose, back in my grasp. I laughed and pulled her closer to me. She hummed in her sleep and leaned into me.

I turned over, onto my side, and allowed myself to rest a little longer. The core and everyone else in this world could wait. I was far, far too busy with someone more important than the rest of them.

-

I walked through my gallery with my Rose, showing her my newest pieces of work. She marveled over Rebirth, saying she loved the sculpture, but was hesitant to mention that it was made of real bodies.

She watched me as I collected blood from one of the male dead, and watched how I began to use it for a new piece of work. She met my creation, Guardian, and hesitantly shook her hand as she wasn't sure how to react. I kept my dear Rose by my side, but knew this wouldn't last for much longer.

People were looking for that girl, the core. A little girl who could evade most people, and I could feel her presence running around Union ever since I had been granted more control.

After some time, I discussed my predicament with my muse. I told her I would not allow her to come with me, as those new men had brought out several guns and deadly weapons. She didn't have any powers, and was nearly defenseless.

"I'm very sorry to say you would simply slow me down." I said.

She sighed. "There are better ways to put that, but blunt is better than nothing, I guess. I can take care of myself, too."

"Not at the moment, you can't. I don't doubt that you'd be able to fight back anyone, but given you are hurt so badly, I will not allow it."

Eventually we came to the understanding that she would have to stay in the gallery, where it was safe. As much as it pained me to leave her so soon after she remembered me, I had to if I wanted time with her in the future.

"Promise me, my muse." I leaned down a little, holding her head with one hand to me as I kissed her forehead. "Swear to me, you will not confront anything or speak to anyone when I am not here."

"I promise." she whispered, holding me.

"Bella..." I murmured. "I'll be home soon, my dear."

"I'll hold you to it. Why do you need to leave, anyway?"

I hesitated, almost unsure of myself once I heard that question. I frowned, and sighed at her.

"I have to find a little girl in this world."

"A little girl?"

I hummed in assurance. "Someone asked me to find her... Given my powers, I would be able to find her."

"Who... Is it? Is it her family, a friend of the family?"

"I do not know." I said truthfully. "I don't know his relation to her."

"Then don't give her to him! You're going to turn over a little girl to a complete stranger?!"

I stood aback, surprised at her bluntness. It made me smile, and I leaned forward, laughing at the surprise she had caused me. "You would make a wonderful mother."

She shook her head. "Just don't give her to a complete stranger, especially if they haven't proven that they even know her parents. How she's managed to survive, if she has, I haven't a clue."

Rose raised a hand to her newer bandages. I glanced over where her wound was. She had been too frightened to look, worried that she was now "ruined" in my eyes. Even as I tried to quell those fears, but she still seemed uncertain.

"If I got this on the first day of those creatures, or people driven insane, whatever they are, I can't imagine a little girl surviving in this climate."

"Would you be willing to take care of a child under 10 years?"

"It's better than the alternative. If you don't want to deal with her, then you won't have to. I just want at least someone to survive this nightmare."

"I'll bring her to you, then. At least until that man proves he has the best in mind for her."

She glanced up, a more relieved look crossing her soft features. I smiled and leaned forward, pressing my lips to hers. I knew that wouldn't work well with Theodore's demands. Given that he has been trying to hide his power from me, I wouldn't dare imagine how he would try to right this wrong. If he realized I had completely defied his stupid ideologies, I could only assume he would attempt to hurt me and my muse.

I smiled at her as I pulled away, and hugged her one last time. After I let go of her, I kissed her forehead as one last show of affection. I finally released her, turning away and moving myself further through the world. The look in her eyes, a look of worry, took to the back of my mind. I wondered if there was a solution to my problem. If there was a way to fix her wound and give her a way to never be powerless against anyone. I had yet to tell her how I feel about her, not willing to entertain the idea it was my hesitance that kept her memories so distant. I had taken to muttering it in my native language when I thought she couldn't hear me, hoping that somehow I could move passed this fluttering stomach stage of affection to something stronger.

One step lay in the hallway, and the next I was in the streets of Union. I walked to the area where I last sensed that little girl hiding. I began following her close behind, knowing she would instantly realize I was there. I didn't care, I enjoyed her fear as she ran through the streets.

Once I caught sight of her, I realized just how terrified the little girl was. She had dark black hair, darker than mine. A short bob that framed her head swayed as she ran, frilly pink children's pajamas that made silent swishing noises as her legs carried her.

Even if I didn't have my power, I could easily outrun her. She was so much smaller than me, and my legs were much longer than most.

I notice the man who escaped my Guardian following after a while. I could almost hear him running after us, shooting guns off with reckless abandon. I could only imagine how well that helped, given any noise would drag more corrupted citizens of Union running after him. I mentally groaned as I realized I would have to face off with him eventually. Whatever, I will deal with it when I come to it.

She led me to a restaurant, running into the back. I frowned as I heard her lock the door behind her. I walked after her, briskly making my way to the door she disappeared behind. Caught up in the moment, I tried the doorknob and began banging on the door. I jerked the door roughly, knowing full well I could use my gifts at any time.

I could hear her scuffling around in the room, and a sound like she was climbing on top of something floated to me. A smile flickered across my face. Now that I was closer to this girl, I could feel a stronger sense of my environment. I could almost feel it move with my will, large pieces of ground falling away and floating apart because of my will. My own imagination surged in my mind, feeling the world shift and change as I bent and broke it.

How far could my power go if I had her in hand?

Silence appeared around me, and I could sense her running away. I chuckled. _That isn't going to help you, little girl._

I simply walked out of the restaurant kitchen, into the outside area. I saw her watching me as I stood. Her large, widened eyes showed how frightened she was. She gasped aloud and turned while shrieking, beginning to run away again.

I decided she could simply continue running. I wanted to know what the difference was, this little girl running further away from me and comparing what it felt like for her to go.

As I stood and watched her, the further from me she got the more difficult the world seemed to shape. It wasn't too hard, but I could tell it took more than a simple thought than it had a few moments ago.

I continued my walk through the town. She barely slowed down, running further into town and moving towards a shipping container warehouse. I felt myself wondering if all children had this amount of energy. Or, if it was simply the fear that allowed her to keep running. It doesn't matter to me, either way. I would catch up to her sooner or later, and testing my abilities will make it simpler to create my work. Aside from playing with her, I had been concentrating on something new. I wished to create something from nothing. I had a marvelous idea to use my power and create a titan to watch this world as I created it, a form that would serve for me to observe the world on a larger scale as I molded it to my liking.

But now that I do have more time to myself, I can't help myself from wondering about her. Theodore sent me after her, mostly in hopes that I would blindly follow his orders. I questioned if I should even give her to him, now that I was beginning to learn what I can do. Rose's words lingered in my mind, and I thought about what she had demanded.

Perhaps, for now at least, I will keep this little girl on hand. Her power seems to amplify mine, and if I did capture her then I could see what I can really do.

She sprinted through the warehouse, and I wandered silently in. I heard her shrieking as she came into contact with one of those changed being. I teleported to her and sliced the neck of the creature before it attacked her. It flailed backwards, and I turned to her. She stared up at me, and turned to run away again.

I chuckled quietly as she ran upstairs. I could hear her panting, continuing to give chase to the little girl. I watched her run into a room on the upstairs walkway. I followed her in, walking slowly as though simply playing a game as I followed her.

I glanced around vaguely, not caring about what I really saw. Her pink pajamas were visible and completely apparent behind a shipping pallet leaning against a desk. I smiled, and hummed to myself, turning around and beginning to walk out of the room. In an instant, I appeared myself in the room, watching her beginning to crawl out of her shelter. I got on my knees, yelling as I scared her.

The little girl shrieked and jumped back. Her fear was wonderful, and I reached for her, grasping her shoulder. I moved myself away from this warehouse, entering the hallways of my world, and holding tightly to her.

Once she was in my grasp, the entire world began to warp and change as I commanded as though it was all mine, laying before me as an untouched canvas. I gasped quietly, and felt the girl faint in my arms as I grasped her consciousness with my mind. The world was mine to control, and while her power was not quite under my full control, I could see exactly how to blend her will with mine.

With a smile, I approached my Rose. My back was straightened and my footsteps made her turn around. She rushed over to me, and looked at the girl in my arms.

"Is that her...?"

"Yes. Don't worry, my muse." I chuckled. "She has just fainted, I believe I may have scared her too much."

I realized that newcomer that had been following me had entered the warehouse. He had been so close to finding the core, but now with this new power I could torment him if I so chose.

"I'm afraid I have some... Unfinished business, my dear." I chuckled, and moved closer to Rose. I slid the little girl into her arms, the power now not fading since she is in the world I had created. "I will come back soon. Make sure you take care of her, she needs to be kept safe."

I left on the image of Rose holding the young girl in her arms. A little girl with hair darker than mine, and bright eyes that shine in the lights available. I smiled and disappeared from her.

I decided I must play with this new toy, the newcomer entering the room I had taken the little girl in. Having grabbed her, some of her memories transported to me, allowing me to understand some more. The newcomer is her father, and willing to do anything to get her back. She doesn't know he's alive, believing him to already be dead. Well, I will quickly rectify that.

But for now, with an extended ability, I shall turn my mind to create my titan. I shall call it Aperture, as its all-seeing eye would serve me just as my camera does.


	23. Obscura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose questions herself about her feelings, and Stefano has a brilliant idea.

_-Rose's P.O.V.-_

Stefano left me where I stood, the little girl laying in my arms. I glanced down at her, blinking at her as she lay there. I almost didn't believe it was possible that this girl had been wandering outside for so long with those creatures attacking those that aren't changed. Yet here she was, almost untouched and peacefully safe.

There was something about this girl that made me question things. She seemed odd, almost like she wasn't quite real. Stefano had shown me some of his photographs from when Union fell apart, and if the citizens weren't being used for his art, they were being stalked by those creatures and torn to pieces. So this little girl being untouched, and almost completely clean, aside from the bottoms of her feet, which weren't cut up or damaged, was almost a paradox to me.

I set her down on the bed I had been sharing with Stefano. She lay gently down, and I decided it might be best if she just rested for a while. If she's been awake as long as him, it's likely best to just let her sleep. I closed the door to the bedroom, quietly clicking the lock to make sure no one could enter without breaking the door down.

I sat down in a chair left in the room, allowing myself to think for a while. I wondered if it was okay to trust Stefano anymore. He seemed more... Manic, almost completely unhinged. I wasn't sure if the environment had helped him become more unpredictable, or if because he was left unchecked he began to indulge his work even more.

I scoffed to myself. Of course I shouldn't trust him. I should have never trusted him. I was surprised in myself for even trying to find him when he went missing.

Yet I still yearn to hear him praise me. I was sure that he wouldn't even care or remember me, no matter how much I wanted for him to love me back. I supposes it would be simple to think of me as a fling he had while looking for support of his work. But he still tried to hold me close and keep me by his side.

Seeing those limbs stitched together in the piece he made, the men with gunshots to their heads and knives slicing into their torsos... It honestly made me a little sick. I wasn't sure how I felt about his work now. Since arriving in Union, I didn't experience as much depression or mental issues as I did before. It made me wonder if it was even the real world, that is before everything went to shit. Now I know better, seeing the way he has magical abilities to make rooms appear and turn a single hallway into a maze.

I held my head up and tried to push passed the idea that he was going to hurt me. I tried to push down the idea of how he created his work, how he killed each person. I couldn't avoid it, but I tried.

This world was the first time I had seen a dead body.

And he was _pleased_ with his work. When I still felt my depression, I was somewhat excited that he would turn me into a creation of his, but now that it's all gone... And it's much more terrifying. I'm not certain how to continue our relationship as it had been progressing. I had been scared of him before, but now I'm not sure how I feel. He's terrifying in that I watched him kill a man to show me his powers.

I think it's even more terrifying that I still love him. I can't pull my mind away from him, excitement overflowing me each time his lips met mine. It was like I fell into the stars when he brushed his knuckles across my face. I could feel my logic and rational side warring with my romantic and infatuated side; one insisting I run as far and as fast away from him as my legs can carry me, and the other begs me to stay by his side and give him everything he desires. I wanted to run away, screaming as I went to draw as much attention to the man, in hopes that he would never touch me again. And yet, as scary as it was, I couldn't bring myself to think about life without him. I loved the way he made me feel, even now. He made me feel special, the way he looked me over as he he held me, kissed me...

I watched the little girl sleeping on the bed. Was he really willing to pass her over to whoever asked for her? Was he really willing to...?

No, no I won't think about it. I can't bear to imagine what kind of a person asks someone to retrieve a child in a hellscape like this. Something about how Stefano had described the man asking for her, I couldn't help but think he had wanted to hurt the little girl. I couldn't imagine what that would say about Stefano if he was going to give her over to the man. I wanted to see the best in the person I love, but I can't ignore that mental probing.

I stood, allowing myself to stretch my limbs. I decided I needed to walk around. I began wandering around the room, just trying to stretch my legs. I paced slightly, moving to the door and moving back to the chair as I tried to get blood flowing through my body.

I heard a flashing sound, and turned as a blue light faded from the dim room. Stefano had returned, a wide, excited smile crossing his face. There was a blue light shining from underneath his bangs, and I stared for a moment. After a moment, I glanced into his visible eye as he approached me.

" _Bella mia,_ I've had a wondrous idea!" he said excitedly.

"Oh, what is it?"

He pressed his lips against my head. "I have found I have some of the most wonderful ideas for bringing my creations to life. But, I need your opinions, and I need you to help me with my newest ideas."

He grasped onto my shoulders, and he disappeared before me. I looked around in hopes of finding where he had gone. Then I realized I was no longer in the locked bedroom. This new location was one I hadn't seen before, a long, outstretched hallway laying before me. The carpet looked like one of a hotel, and oddly looked like something from The Shining, but with a camera aperture carpet instead.

I swallowed the small amount of fear that began to boil in my stomach. What did he want to show me?

I turned around, seeing an empty room laying behind me. I initially turned and began walking into the bare room, but there was only a table and an elevated arm that sat on it. I swallowed, and turned back around. I walked back down the hallway, slowly making my way forward. I was probably too wary for my own good, but I had made myself paranoid as I thought about Stefano's intentions.

I tried to laugh off my paranoia, but the silence and lonely hallway didn't quell the fear inside of me.

A loud, echoing scream knocked me off my balance. I jumped away from the sound, realizing it was coming from a window in the wall left of me. I looked into it, seeing Stefano's back turned to me. I couldn't see anything on the table in front of him, but I saw what looked like his darkroom surrounding him. It was like the window in the darkroom of my college, meant for looking out of to make sure you could transport a developed photo without letting light into the room.

"Sh, don't cry. You're becoming art." Stefano's voice said through the glass.

I could hear him, but it sounded far off. It was as though what I was seeing was something from the past. I watched the scene, his figure completely unmoving as he spoke.

"You shall be part of my Obscura..." his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, as though lovingly as he killed the woman, still screaming.

The scene before me disappeared, blackening as it all disappeared. I swallowed and began to move forward again. I continued walking down the hallway, carefully stepping one foot in front of the other.

Another screaming, coming from my right this time, startled me as I approached another window. I could see him again, standing with his back to me. He still didn't move, as though frozen. I could hear him working, though, what sounded like a wet tearing sound meeting my ears.

"Ah, flesh..." he said over the sound of the woman's screams. "Less malleable than clay, softer than marble... It really is the perfect medium."

I watched the still frozen Stefano, listening as that woman kept screaming.

"Agh! I can't concentrate like this!" He cried out, his tone sounding annoyed and angry. "A sculpture doesn't need a tongue..."

The woman's screaming was silenced, and a choking sound sounded off. It was like the sound of something being forced down her throat. Once she had stopped screaming, the window turned black like the one a few paces behind me. The scene disappeared before me, and I turned to the empty hallway.

Is this who I am? Is he showing me this to tell me I'm going to be his next creation?

I stood, frozen at first. I couldn't move at all, shivering quietly as the sound of the woman's screams being silenced echoed in my mind.

"Ah, _bella mia,_ " I heard as something grabbed my shoulders from behind _,_ "why did you stop?"

I turned around, looking into the eye of Stefano, who had appeared behind me. I tried to swallow my fear, beginning to question myself as this man held onto my shoulders.

"You promised me you would be mine until I was tired of you."

I shivered as he began to brush a finger against my face. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine myself anywhere else.

"I think it's a little overwhelming."

"Hmm..." he chuckled. "My dear, what have I told you about cowards? About lying to me?"

I didn't answer, and after a moment he turned me around. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, guiding me down the hallway with him. I tried to think about how to get out of this, get away from this man. He wasn't the Stefano I knew, whatever his power was allowing him to do was changing the man I had fallen in love with.

We reached the end of the hallway, a dark red curtain hanging in front of us, and he reached his free hand out, drawing aside the dark fabric. It was a dark room, and I thought it was meant to be empty. 

"Is... Is this my room?" I said, with a tremble in my voice. "Where you'll turn me into a sculpture...?"

He laughed. "Oh, no... Of course not. I have such plans for you, my dear."

Lights clicked on, focusing on the center of the room in which we stood. What faced me was skin stretched across barbed wire, shaping what appeared to be three gigantic legs. They were at least as large as me, and they led up to an empty torso. The legs had tailored ballet slippers daintily placed on the feet, and tied up to the ankles. I glanced around, seeing what looked like an older camera being situated a little ways away. 

I swallowed as Stefano pulled me closer to this sculpture.

"What do you think?" he said quietly. "You are the first to see this work in progress."

I glanced over at him, realizing there was something hidden in his voice. He chuckled as he regarded me.

"My dear, I told you so long ago that I would give you my best. You shall have it, and I shall have you by my side as we create art forever. You will not be powerless anymore."

I gasped as he pulled me into a kiss. I closed my eyes, feeling him beginning to undress me. He tore off the red dress he had given me violently, allowing it to be spread in tattered pieces along the floor. He held me tightly and pulled me closer to the incomplete sculpture.

"Do not touch." he whispered as I moved to undo his scarf. "This is not for pleasure, my dear. This is for the sake of art."

I gasped as something sharp pricked my bare neck. I grasped at my neck as he withdrew a needle. He wasn't bothering to smile now, a look across his face tantamount to glee without reaction.

"You are the finishing piece to my crowning achievement."

I stumbled backwards, and he disappeared. I felt myself being grabbed from behind, and my legs gave out from underneath me as I stumbled into him.

"Come, my muse... Your throne awaits."

His breath was hot against my ear as I felt him press his lips into my skin. My eyes drooped and I could feel myself passing out. The darkness took me, and the world disappeared. That was the last thing I remembered. The end of Rose Olian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before it's brought up, this idea has been floating in my mind since the beginning of my story. I had an idea for how this would play out, but I've been worried about how it would be received. I can rewrite this chapter if it's not liked, but I kind of like the idea of Stefano creating Obscura from someone he knows loves him so she's easier for him to control.
> 
> Also, there is more to the story, don't worry. <3


	24. Awakening

_"Come here, come to me..."_

I could hear Stefano's voice in my mind. I could... _Feel_ him coaxing me forward.

 _"There, my dear..."_ I heard his voice louder as I moved towards him.

My eyes open, and I can register a warped reality. I blinked a few times, my eyelids making what appeared to be a circular shape. After a moment, I began to move slightly.

"Ah-ah-ah..."

Stefano was standing before me, arms above his head. I felt confusion as I looked down at him. I should be a few inches shorter than him, but now I was at least a foot taller.

"Take it slow, my dear. Take your time, you don't need to start your work just yet."

My skin was bare, and I couldn't help but feel odd and cold. I realized I could hear something in the back of my mind, making me push closer to the man I love. My body shifted, and my face moved lower to press against him. He lowered his hands and cradled my face, and I realized in the back of my mind it was much larger, almost as big as his torso.

"Ah, that's it, come here my beauty."

His arms were warm as he caressed me. I couldn't feel him stroking my head as I looked at him, I could only feel the pressure and movements in my neck and shoulders. I could feel his hand brushing over my shoulder to comfort me as it was pushing something off my skin.

"You look so beautiful, my dear." he chuckled quietly. "I've been thinking about this for so long now, and no word in any language can do you justice. I have truly outdone myself with you."

The sounds in the back of my head were pained and angry. They didn't want to hear him, they didn't want him to speak. They were almost violent, and I felt something unfurl in my torso.

 _"Focus on me..."_ I heard in my mind. Not in an exact language, but more as an image, or a concept. _"I can feel them too... Don't worry, my love, I will help you control them."_

I felt my frame shiver, a calming sensation taking over me, and I looked down a little. My hands were placed on my lap, and I could see the large legs I had remembered before it all went black _attached_ to me. The objects from my back, what looked like barbed wire, rested along the floor next to me as I calmed down.

 _Love...?_ I thought, hearing a groan emit from my chest. I didn't have a voice to make any sound, instead the loud vibrations of what was left of my lungs was all that I could muster.

 _"Yes."_ Stefano's voice filled my mind, domineering, yet somehow caring. _"My love. My muse... I do not know if I can live without you anymore. If you came to harm, I do not know if I could go on creating."_

Another groan filled my chest, reverberating around the room. He stroked my face some more, causing a quiet rumble from my chest. Less like a groan, and more like a purr.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you a way to speak, my beautiful Obscura."

He sighed as he held me close to him.

"But, I'm sure you will find your voice without the need for sound. And, of course, I will always hear you when you call out for me."

I tucked my neck around him, feeling it stretch out slightly. I grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled him close to me. He climbed onto my lap, sitting against me and holding me tightly. I was large enough to hold him close, and I felt an odd sense of comfort now as this big creature.

"Now, let's see you move, you wonderful creature."

He helped me get to my feet. All three of them. I towered over Stefano, and I had to hold up my head at first as I got used to my new body. The way he had designed my legs made it simpler to move around on the points, somehow. The ballet slippers were sewn into my legs, and my feet felt fused to the fabric.

I could almost feel him coaxing me as I began to move around. I wasn't able to hide anything in the back of my mind, somehow the fear and paranoia I had been feeling just a little while earlier completely gone. It was as like I could feel his arms guiding me as I moved, as though I could feel him pressed into my back and moving with me. I was sure I could see him pressed into me in my mind's eye, but he stood before me with a smile as he watched me. His will was intertwined with my mind, his mental voice urging me to love him more.

He showed me how to take photographs with the camera he had given me as a head. He showed me how it gave me a slight amount of his powers. His connection to me allowed me to freeze time in a small, selective area. It took me some time to wrap my mind around the fact I only had a lens for my eyes and an older-style camera attached to my shoulders. Whether or not there was something inside the camera, my head or anything else, I wasn't even sure myself.

I could hear the voices, just barely, of the other women that had made up this body. I was the main, mostly pure piece of this art he had made, so I had the most control over the other minds that were with me. My torso had been emptied of my organs aside from my heart and my lungs, completing the piece after I had seen it. A metal cage helped the remaining flesh and muscles keep their shape. Inside, with a barrier around them, were small spools of barbed wire, things I could move if I chose and strike like tendrils of my own will. 

The minds that were there with me blended together, almost as a singular noise. Their skin had been purposefully stretched and displaced away from each other piece of skin.

"They aren't as pure as the piece you make up, my Obscura." Stefano explained, running his fingers along the bare skin of my legs. "I couldn't keep their minds out of yours, as much as I tried. But I was able to make them quieter, and I will make sure they do not hurt you or overwhelm you."

I groaned quietly in response to this. The sounds I made caused him to smile wider. I leaned down as I felt him ask for it, and his lips pressed against the top of the camera.

 _I want to kiss you, Stefano..._ flickered through my mind.

"Then close your eye, my beauty."

My camera lens closed, and I felt the world stop around me. I could feel him in my mind, his lips pressing into mine. He held me close, his mind conjuring the sensation of his touch against me. I yearned for him, and held him tighter in my mind.

"There, you see?" He whispered as the aperture of my lens opened again. "You understand me again. You are strong and understand my vision. You are no longer afraid of me, of my work. So you shall be by my side until the end."

I nudged him with my head. He laughed, and held me close. He was right, I didn't remember the feeling of fear. There was no more hesitance, no more restraint from my conscience and logic.

 _I love you..._ my heart ached.

_"And I love you, my dear bella."_

I groaned quietly. I could feel my love's mind shift.

"Ah, he's come now."

My shutter clicked as I watched him. He laughed, though I could feel he wasn't quite happy about this predicament. The walls disappeared around us, and I watched as a familiar room appear around us. There was a large machine in the middle of the room, looking like a large metal box. I glanced over it, moving my new neck and craning it around.

My Stefano moved through the town hall. He left me to prepare for the man who had entered the building. The man also searching for the little girl.

_Are you still going to give the girl to that man?_

I watched an image of a black, bald man with a scar across the side of his face appear in my mind. Stefano's thoughts seemed enraged for some reason, and his mind turned back to me.

_"I'm afraid I do not know just yet. Perhaps this newcomer should believe I shall, to send him away from us."_

I found I could climb up the walls, supporting my now larger form with the strength of my legs and climbing with the barbed wire that extended from me.

I heard doors slamming as the man entered several rooms. Stefano's world fused with this building, so part of where he ran was invisible to me. I was only aware of my creator moving around in the building, setting up puzzles and shadows to scare him even more.

The man entered a secluded room and darkened, and I found myself in front of him. As I was commanded, I moved around him, taking pictures and flashing my bulb in his face.

After the third click, he was gone. I found myself in front of the machine again. I wandered around, seeing it appeared to be broken or off. I wondered what it was, what the machine was used for. I familiarized myself with the room, knowing my love had decided I would be shown here. I didn't know what for just yet, but I was okay with that. I could hear him in my mind, praising me and my new form, and I couldn't find it in me to doubt him anymore.

Once his work had finished, Stefano approached me again, beginning to help me get ready for my first showing.

"We must show you to the world!" he sounded elated as he tied me to ropes for me to descend from. "And I have the most wonderful idea for you to get used to your new body."

_And what's that?_

"You will kill him!" he laughed, my body now being pulled into the air. "You will draw his blood and make your first true art!"

I didn't feel scared. His excitement pulsed through me, and made me excited as well. I felt... Ready to kill. I wanted to kill.

The women inside of me egged me on, training their focus and anger for Stefano on the potential bloodlust that they wanted me to use now turned to someone else. The man with the dark hair, the man with the gun, they called out, he'll be at our mercy.

Once he was content I was secured to the ceiling, Stefano disappeared elsewhere. I could feel him being close.

 _"Do not fail me, my dear."_ I could hear his voice in my head. _"I'm afraid it will make me far too upset with you."_

_I won't._

_"Good girl."_

I made a quiet purring sound in my happiness. I was getting used to this body, no longer able to feel the strain of my skin, the ache of the decaying flesh. I felt lively, a spring in my step.

Eventually, the man entered the room I was in. The creaking of my metal-boned limbs sounded in the room as I squirmed with my excitement. The man glanced up, trying to pinpoint where the sound I was making was coming from. After a moment, he approached the machine in the center of the room, pressing a button on the interface.

"Authorization required. Please connect an authorized terminal." said a robotic female voice.

"Terminal?" said the man in a gruff voice. "Must mean this communicator."

He pulled out something from his pocket and placed it into a slot on the machine. After a second, the machine came to life and opened up, extending into a giant antenna.

"Restart sequence initiated." Electricity shot from the machine as the new limbs of it began spinning. It crackled and made sounds as a screen read an amount of time it would need to restart.

The doors opened behind the man, and I watched as Stefano approached him, camera in front of his face. After a few paces, the man seemed to notice. He jerked down slightly, turning and grabbing something from a holster. I almost sprung into action as I realized it was a gun.

A click sounded through the room, and everything froze in a small box that encased the man and the machine.

Stefano began to move forward, camera lowered and swinging in his hand as he walked.

"You've been looking for me for so long," he said to the frozen and aware man. "So I have come."

He reached his newest sculpture, and I could feel his interest changing and shifting, his imagination coursing through his mind and imagining all the possibilities of art he can create.

"But wait..." he said in an almost playful tone. "It's not me you seek, is it?"

He stopped walking, turning to stare at the man. "No. It's the girl... I should be offended."

I watched the scene as his head turned away. "But how can I be?" He turned his head back to the man after he spoke.

"You're not the only one who wants her power..."

He walked to the front of the man, a slight smile crossing his face as he began walking around his newest fixture.

"There is another, one far more deserving... One who can offer rewards you could never imagine..."

He stopped his predatory dance around the trapped man, a smile completely taking his face. I questioned it, wondering what it was that Stefano was going to get from the man who had sent him after the little girl. In the back of my mind, I remembered he was attempting to construct a lie, a lie so he could stay with me longer.

"So sorry, but you've been outbid." He raised his knife, and I thought he had changed his mind.

He jerked the knife forward with a quiet "Hah!" as though it was a joke, stopping the tip of his knife just before the man's eye. I was entranced as I continued to watch them. I wanted to please him, to make him proud of me now that he has changed me.

My mind tried to move passed the morality, the part of me rapidly dying inside of me trying to fight this control he has over me. I tried to push it down, but that part of me didn't want to die easily. I fought myself, as this new thing, and tried to stop the onslaught of my logical side. It was desperate, an egging inside of me, to stop this madness. I pushed it all down, attempting to drown that sensation in the love I continued to feel for that man. Logic no longer mattered in a world like this. In a world where I could join with the minds of several other women, and speak to a man who had mutilated our bodies and transformed our dying flesh into a single, miraculous being.

I hadn't noticed Stefano introducing himself to the man, having sliced part of his face. I looked down, holding onto my new head. My love turned to leave the room, walking out with a singular glance backwards. I saw the box that contained the man begin to waver, and he eventually broke out of the frozen lighting. He pulled his gun forward and held it up towards the door, my Stefano appearing near me, ready to watch the show as he expected me to perform.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, finger on the trigger, and a frightened look on his face.

My new body descended from the ceiling, spinning ever so slightly as I was suspended by the wires. Once I had reached a certain height, my head swung around and stared at the man. I could see his dirty face sweating ever so slightly, unshaven, and terrified.

My body shifted, and turned over. The cables that held me snapped off the metal that protruded from my body, allowing me to flip and land on my feet.

"Meet my beautiful Obscura..." I heard Stefano call out above me.

I silently prayed that I would make him happy. I didn't know what to expect, seeing the man dive behind a wall to avoid me. I turned my attention to the machine that had begun again as Stefano's power ended around the man. With a click, and a snap of my light bulb, I channeled his power through me, freezing only the machine this time.

I turned, searching for now. I hummed quietly as I looked around, seeing him dive behind another wall, at first beginning to avoid me. I felt my love's excitement flow through me, a smile pursing his lips.

Without another thought, I sprung after the man.


	25. Broken Hearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty angst chapter ahead, sorry.

Stefano grumbled to himself. He was enraged, completely furious as he wandered through the halls of his world.

"How _dare_ he!" he shouted loudly. "He dare destroy _my work_!"

He passed the room I now resided in. I drooped my head slightly, hearing him enter as he threw something down on the ground. I looked around, seeing it was the last photo I had taken before the machine had turned on.

I hadn't been successful in stopping the man. I had really tried, really really tried, to stop him. He continuously shot me, and even if I started getting used to the pain, he still caused me to break my concentration. The pain broke up my thoughts, making the frozen machine resume, no matter how many times I stopped it.

Each time I got close, climbed along the wall, struck him with the barbed wire I had been given as a weapon... He continued to shoot me repeatedly.

"Ah... There you are..." Stefano said slowly.

I flinched, lowering my head to him. Even though I knew he wasn't angered with me, his thoughts were so violent that I was worried one wrong move would make him feel worse.

Once the machine, that I now know is called the Stable Field Emitter, rebooted completely, I felt a strange sense of agony surge through my body. It ached and felt like my skin was breaking apart. Just before I thought I would fall to pieces, my surroundings completely changed, and I was once again in Stefano's world. I didn't sense him within, and his gentle, soft voice was completely silent. As I realized what had happened, I felt an overwhelming sense of shame.

I walked around the gallery at first, developing the film I had taken, then hid myself in a darkened room. I didn't want to face him as I had failed the man I love, I had completely disappointed him. After a short while, I felt Stefano enter the world he oversaw and began looking for me. He knew exactly where I was, so he made his way straight to me.

He slid a hand over the side of my camera as he reached my sitting body. He hummed quietly as he thought, seemingly in thought while he was still annoyed.

"I made you to be indestructible..." He sighed. "But I did not expect you would not have the same durable power as me."

He leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to the box of my camera. It was almost like he kissed my cheek. He lingered there, as though to say he forgave me.

"I won't hold it against you, this time, my Obscura." He whispered as he withdrew. "Next time, however, I expect you to be able to finish him."

I moved my head once in agreement. His cross look faded, and his anger turned into a sweet smile.

"I _do_ love you, my dear." he muttered, pressing his lips to my frame again. "And I _will_ love you for all eternity... Once we have this world to ourselves, we can turn this into the most wonderful paradise for my work."

I moved my head against him, emitting that small purr I had begun to use. It made him chuckle, and a small gleam crossed his eye. I ached to hold him like I used to, feeling him using his influence to make me feel, it in a way.

"I know, my _bella._ But some things _must_ be sacrificed for art." 

_Even that?_

He frowned a little. "Yes, even physical affections, my dear."

I nodded a little, hearing the accordion stretching a little. He glanced over the fabric, sliding his fingers into the folds, and realized part of it was torn where I had been shot.

" _Dio mio..._ " I heard him mumble. " _(What are we going to do with you...?)_ "

I realized he had spoken in Italian, but I could understand him. The concept of what he said automatically translated it, surprising me. I nudged against him, feeling a want for his attention.

"Now, now. You don't need to be mournful, my dear. Unfortunately your first work was not finished. We will fix that next time."

He grasped onto one of my hands, helping me stand. My long, large legs extending up and holding my torso steady. His gloved hand slipped from mine, running ever so gently over one of my legs. He had a near passionate look in his eye, glancing into my lens as he took in my body.

"Come, follow me, my love. Let's fix your poor body, it is desperate for some care."

He turned, trailing his fingers from my skin, holding out his left hand slightly as he began walking away. He gestured me to follow him, mentally pushing me to move. I obliged, following him quietly. He led me into a new hallway where he wanted me to stay. He wanted me to watch the area where he held the little girl, to protect her at the very least.

He tended to the wounds the man had given me. "On the better side, I suppose, Theodore has told me the man's name. He is called Sebastian Castellanos. I think he would make a wonderful edition to the series of people who sought the core."

He chuckled, slipping the ribbons off my legs to change them. I hummed in agreement, closing my aperture and watching his imagination unfold. The image of him, a flower of blood bursting through his chest. The amount of blood spurting forth, the life being drained from his skin.

"It is beautiful, no?"

I nodded to him. _Yes... Yes. It is so beautiful._

He looked up with a smile. "You have learned perfectly." He reached up and patted my casing.

I hummed quietly as he turned to sewing my skin back together. It was a little uncomfortable, feeling him bind parts of my skin together. What's left of my body was forgetting how to die; I could feel the flesh in a half-way point, wanting to decay yet holding on to life tightly.

He took care of me as time passed, and I took care of the core for him. I stayed by her side following her as she tried to find a way out of the loop she was in, walking along the hallways with as much strength as she had. I'm not sure, but I think his control over her makes her more tired with each passing hour, as she needs to sleep longer and longer.

-

Time here moves faster, I think. What felt like days began to pass, and I heard Stefano cursing and shouting about something a long time later. He burst into the room I was in, and I lifted my head from off the bed. The little girl - Lily, I think - was sleeping soundly in the bed he and I had shared before my body had changed.

"How _dare_ he!!" He shouted.

I stood up and grabbed his hand, guiding him from the room. He grumbled lowly, but followed me. I pulled him into the hallway, nudging my head against his torso.

"He tore down my art and burned a finished photo!" he shouted angrily.

I held his hand in mine, kneeling down before him. He sat down, grabbing onto my hands, holding onto them too. His eye closed and he breathed deeply, as he had done when he usually got angry.

I could feel he was slightly knocked off his balance. I had been realizing that the longer we stayed here, the worse he's become. He refused that he was in the wrong each time I tried to bring it up to him. It was obvious, to me at least, the longer he had control over this world and how it was presented in its entirety, the more enraged, tired, and mad he continued to become. I wanted to show him he was going to hurt himself. I wanted him to listen to me, but he had begun writing off everything I said.

The logical side of me, as weak as she was, still fought and kicked. She wouldn't let me think he was right. She wouldn't let me love him unconditionally. She screamed and threw a fit inside of me, trying to get me to snap out of this unhealthy relationship.

 _I swore I would never be involved in a relationship like this!_ she chanted, over, and over, and over again.

The piece of control he had over me didn't like this side of me, constantly trying to affect me in a way that would kill that piece of the old me left. I wanted it to be simple, like switching off that logistical side of me. But she wouldn't give in.

I think he secretly enjoys it. Knowing that I will do as he says, but still have the part that resists him. I can only imagine how gratifying for him it would be to smother it eventually.

"Come, my dear." Stefano looked up at me, a dark smile staring back at me. "He shall see you next, he will face you, and he will fail. You will prove yourself once again."

I nodded, and he moved us through the world. Once the ground settled, I could see a hallway that lead to a maze of curtains and rooms.

"This is where I shall leave you, my dear." He laughed, his now manic and unkind smile settled on his face. "I'm afraid I do not have anything left for you if he manages to defeat you. I cannot keep you around me if you cannot continue my work."

That part hurt me. My heart hurt, and I felt his influence begin to leave me. I realized just how cruel he really had been to me these past few days I've spent after the man had restarted he emitter. He secluded me, and wouldn't let me near him unless he deemed it. He just kept enough influence over me to keep me loyal to him.

I could feel the pain of my skin now. He let go of me completely, and the searing pain of where my skin had been torn and cut by his hand was apparent. He had been acting as my anesthetic.

He had become tired of me. He still wished for me to succeed, that much I knew. But his care for me beyond being his living sculpture was now exceeded. Whatever he used to feel for me, if he ever really cared, was now faded and gone. Whether it was because of this madness that had begun setting in his mind, or because he just wanted to move onto a project that wasn't rotting before him, it didn't matter. He was going to leave me and let me go regardless of whether or not I managed to kill this man.

I knew that he didn't care anymore about me. He didn't care about Rose anymore. He never called me anything other than "Obscura." Not even when addressing my mind personally, did he ever call me by my name. Just the name he had given me after he changed me.

I watched him turn on his heel, and disappear in the blue smoke he produced when he teleported. I slid to my knees, realizing I had been completely under his control. He tried to get me to kill someone. Someone who really, truly deserved to have that girl over Stefano. The man that had come for her in the town hall was the girl's father. He was her father, and I still stood by Stefano despite that.

I pressed a hand against my tattered and empty stomach, feeling the metal cage underneath supporting my skin. He had said I would make a wonderful mother, trying to care for a child that wasn't mine. If we had even had children, I don't think I would be if he were the father. If I could cry again, I would. But instead, I'm just this abomination now. A camera for a face, and an extra leg made up of several other women's skin. Really, that's all my legs were, the connected and manipulated skin of women who were still partially aware of who they were.

I could understand now. How my fear had disappeared. How my paranoia had disappeared. They hadn't left because I was now a larger, stronger being. They hadn't left at all, he was just suppressing them so I could serve him better.

I heard a sound like metal protesting. I glanced up at the hallway, seeing a barely familiar figure lifting the metal gate that led to the hallway. I turned and began walking into the maze. I didn't care enough to face him, so I explored a small amount of it while he entered. I familiarized myself with the area, finding my way around the rooms that were now my cage.

After a short period of time, I heard the jingling of keys, and I decided to follow it. I entered a room, and saw Sebastian Castellanos aiming a gun at me. I didn't register which kind it was, just the pain of it's ammo meeting my skin.

I cried out in pain, beginning to move at him. It was similar to my fight before, but it hurt so much more. I was able to stand my ground more before, with the man I had loved helping. He kept shooting me, and I was unable to communicate I didn't want to hurt him at first. I flailed and moved away, trying to climb to the wall. I tried to combat him, trying to stop him as he kept shooting at me.

After some time, the tiredness overtook me. I couldn't fight him any longer. My body trembled, flailed one last time, and fell to the floor. I couldn't do anything, feeling my blood seep from my body. I didn't care anymore, feeling a twinge of sadness.

I had wanted him to love me. I had wanted to help him... But I... I've lost him.

With a shudder, I felt my body slip away.


	26. Nightmare

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

My Obscura faded from the world I had placed her in. Each of the consciousnesses laying within the body I had constructed drifted away into the eternal night I had control of.

No matter. It wasn't anything to me. My greatest piece was being created before me.

As enraged as I was that he had destroyed three of my works now, it didn't waver me. I knew what I had to do. I could create a new Obscura. I could remake the photos I had developed.

With the power of the core, I could do anything I wanted.

I could destroy the man who had brought harm to my art. To the philistine that dared lay a finger on all my hard work. I would take immense pleasure in his death. It would be my crowning achievement. I could replace anything I chose when the core's power was all my own.

I sat the last body in the spot I chose. The perfect setup for my greatest masterpiece. I stood back, watching as they regained consciousness and yanked on their binds. I tied the arms to the seat, as I had to each of the materials I had in the theater.

This philistine walking into the theater, running to save his daughter. I glowered as he entered the area. I disappeared in the the auditorium, appearing in the surveillance room.

"You _dare_ to destroy my work?!" I said aloud, the theater's announcement microphone projecting my voice through the theater. "You expect me to _bend_ to your will?! Just like _them_ , thinking they could sculpt me into what I am _not..._?!"

My voice caught in my throat as I felt something come over me. I remembered, just so briefly, that my Obscura had said that too. Before I could turn her into my Obscura, she had mentioned she had forgotten me. She had missed me and forgotten me.

I stood up away from the microphone, holding onto my head.

 _"Stefano..."_ A singing voice filled my head, making me jerk.

I looked for the sound, the echoing being irrational in a small enclosed room like this.

The voice of that floating woman appeared from time to time. I knew better than to follow it, but it's been getting into my head much more often now.

I could hear her screaming.

_What...? Screaming?_

That didn't make sense. She sings. Singing is what I hear.

I turned back to the microphone, not realizing I had begun using my powers. I allowed myself to move with the regular time.

"... What they created in here..." I gathered my thoughts, still hearing that song playing in my mind. "It's marvelous. They wasted it! Because _they_ had no imagination. Because _they_ are not artists."

Who are _they?_ I found myself thinking. I shook my head, ignoring that thought.

"They want to control me. Manipulate me..."

No one will manipulate me again... No one will make me think things I do not wish to again. I will not feel anything I do not wish to ever again.

"You want to stop me." A smile spread across my lips. "But you have failed. Because with the power of the Core... I can create my art, forever..."

The singing became louder, making me stand up again. I frowned, unhappy that I had been interrupted. I was tired of this woman's screaming. She kept making the same nonsensical sounds again and again.

I went to the door, jerking it open. I walked into the hallway to confront the floating woman who kept interrupting me as I worked. The air around me felt dryer as I stepped away from the room I had been in. The world changed around me, and I found myself walking along a desert. Somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized it.

I gasped aloud as I saw a familiar group of people running forward. I had seared this day into my mind, trying to know what I could have done differently. If I could have saved myself, my eye. If I could have still had my vision and save myself from the scarring that took over my face.

I heard the singing behind me, and I turned around. The floating woman was before me, singing and swaying in the sandy breeze that I remembered too well. She stood there, watching my reactions as I took in the scene before me, reliving all at once the time that had taken me away.

However, I wasn't focused on the ghost of the woman before me.

A young woman was standing in front of me. In front of the image of the ghost. My eye flickered across her body, the purity of her skin. Her short, brown hair swaying delicately in the breeze, untouched by the dirt and sand that had consumed and buried so many bodies that day. She wore a white dress, short sleeves just barely passing over her shoulders, skirt fluttering just above her knees.

She looked up at me, tears flowing down her cheeks. " _Stefano..._ "

Her voice rang out in my mind, and I somewhat knew she wasn't real.

I took a step back as I took in her form. The difference from when I had last seen her like this, aside from the dress, was her large, protruding belly. Her hands were wrapped around it delicately, holding it gently in her grasp.

I reached for her as it set in what the ghostly woman was showing me, just as the first bomb went off.

-

_-Rose's P.O.V.-_

I awoke with a gasp. I was laying on a bed, a soft and inviting, normal-sized bed. I glanced down, seeing something I never expected to see again. I saw two, normal-sized legs. I sat up, feeling tears slip from my eyes. I was wearing a white dress, exactly like the one I had been wearing the first day I had been in Union. I was wearing clothing, real clothing. I pressed a hand to my face, realizing I could feel the skin and see through two eyes.

"I'm so sorry." I hiccuped. "I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted my life to be like this."

I caused myself so much trouble, and so much trouble for the man I loved. It hurt to think that I let myself become this entranced as much as I had. I shouldn't have fallen for him. I shouldn't have loved him. And I shouldn't have let it go on for so long.

I should have gone to the police with what I knew. I should have taken it in stride, whether it made me an accomplice or not, I should have taken whatever would happen to me and turned him in. So many people would have been saved. So, so many people would have been saved.

I heard quiet singing as I sat up. A single vocalization being repeated in different tones. The woman's voice sounded less like it was coming from any direct place, and sounding like it was inside my mind.

I realized I was in my home. I was in my apartment, back in Krimson city. I looked around my room, something not quite right as I observed it. I realized the door was in the wrong spot, and my bed was against the wrong wall. Staring at the details made my head spin. My door was to my left, and my bed was against the right wall. It was supposed to be reversed.

How... How is this possible?

I stood up from the bed, looking for the answer of why I was here. _How_ I was here.

I wandered down the hallway, moving through the familiar rooms I had lived in for years. The hallway turned to the right, which didn't seem quite correct. I could have sworn it had turned to the left before.

I stared at it, trying to imagine how I could have been this wrong. I looked down the hallway, seeing a large woman standing floor to ceiling. Fabric from her dress floated as though she was underwater, her hair floating out and touching the ceiling above her. In front of her, I saw someone familiar.

Ryan was standing at the end of the hallway, just before the tall woman. He had a wide smile on his face, and something looked wrong. His nose looked flipped, and a small faded scar on his chin was in the wrong place. My ex began to slowly move towards me as I studied him.

I gasped as he moved with the woman, coming down the hallway. I backed into the wall behind me, then turned and fled away from them. I ran to my bedroom at first, but I froze. The door slammed in my face as I watched it.

A light flickered to my left, and I turned to it, seeing a bathroom in the wrong spot. I gasped, and ran into it. I shoved the door closed, it all feeling far too familiar.

This was almost exactly like the night I decided to leave him.

 _"Rose~..."_ sighed Ryan, singing along with the tall woman.

I heard a knock on the door as I turned the lock on the handle. After a few moments, I heard his voice twist in rage, still mixed with the sound of the singing woman. The knocking turned into banging, knocking me off the door with the force. I turned to the door, watching it shake and vibrate.

 _"Rose..."_ came Ryan's voice again. _"Open the door, Rose..."_

I jumped away, turning to the mirror in my bathroom. I was faced with a blank wall on my first impulse, but saw something odd when I turned the right way. Two people stood before me, but I didn't recognize one of them.

A girl with short hair swooping to the left standing next to a well-dressed man with a similar hairstyle.

"Stefano!" I cried out, seeing the woman moving her mouth with me.

He stood, watching me through the mirror. I could feel his eyes meeting mine, and I saw that the bathroom door in the mirror was open.

_"Rose, I'm getting impatient..."_

I gasped out, turning to the door. It was bent into the room, the wood buckling and beginning to give.

 _"You promised me, remember...?"_ Ryan's voice was more clear, and I could see his eyes looking at me. _"You promised forever..."_

I jerked away from the door. I saw the woman's hands beginning to make their way into the room, fitting through the cracks. Her voice was growing louder, and the floating fabric of her dress entering the room. Some were floating out towards the middle of the room, while others skirted along the barriers of the room.

I looked back to the mirror, seeing Stefano standing alone now. I couldn't see the girl in it.

As the fabric moved out of the room, I stood up, the terror of the situation making me almost too scared to move. As I moved in front of what should have been the mirror, I saw the same woman moving with me. She wore the same dress as me, cradling a large stomach with her left hand when I froze. I lifted the corresponding hand that she was using, watching it move perfectly with me.

I grabbed onto my bangs, pulling a small clump of hair down over one of my eyes. She did the same, and pulled down a small strand along with her, at the same time as me. I slid a hand over my hair, realizing the usual part was on the opposite side of my head. I slid a hand over my stomach, watching her do the same. The flatness of mine wasn't translated, her hand curving over the large hump of her body.

_Is this... a mirrored world?_

The door buckled and splintered. I glanced over at my version of the bathroom door. Ryan had broken in, and the door began to fall from its hinges. He grasped at the wall, trying to push his way through.

My stomach turned. The odd, flipped version of Ryan shoved his way into the room. He hadn't been able to get in that night, but I wouldn't put it passed this world. I jerked away from him, feeling terrified of him all over again.

_"I'm getting angry, Rose..."_

I glanced toward the mirror again. I saw the door shatter and fly off the hinges again. I slammed my hand against the mirror, cracking it violently. I closed my eyes, feeling my hand push through the glass, through the pain of the moment. A pair of fingers fit through mine, and I opened my eyes, seeing my reflection, or rather the real me, reaching forward and holding onto me. I watched myself break through the world, passing through it as glass cut at my skin and passed through me.

The part of me I hate, the part of me I blame... She spun me in her arms. She held me tightly, feeling myself hold her back, and feeling ourselves feel combined.

After a moment, I felt ourselves part away, and I watched the flipped version of myself go back. The part of me that was only ever relived the past, that blamed myself for getting stuck with Ryan... She left me, slipping away from me.

I looked down at myself, realizing we had transferred bodies. Now I was the one with the correct hair part, and I was the one with the large stomach protruding from my abdomen.

I wrapped my arms around the bump, holding myself closer. I could feel a heartbeat pulsing under my fingertips that didn't correspond to my own. I felt tender arms wrap around me, pulling me backwards into him.

 _"Come now, my love..."_ sang a voice in my ear. _"It's time to wake up. You can move on."_

-

I opened my eyes wide. I gasped and sat up, startled.

Am I alive? How am I alive??

I looked over my body, seeing that telltale white dress covering my form. There was no bump, no gained weight, no change to my body. There weren't any bandages, and there weren't any scars where I had been attacked by the creature when everything fell apart. I sat up, seeing my living room laying before me. My living room from Union.

I remember fighting that man, Sebastian, and awaking in my old apartment... And now I'm here? How? I wasn't even whole when I fought him.

I glanced around, hearing something moving around in the house. I swallowed quietly, and moved my way out of the living room.

The world was falling into pieces. Large chunks of ground were floating in the sky. I stared up into the sky, seeing everything completely in pieces. Something else caught my eye as I looked into the sky, a large being staring at something.

What appeared to be a giant camera lens stared down at the theater of Union. Large tendrils floated in the air around it, part of it holding itself to the floating island of this area of town. I heard a loud rumbling take over the ground, what felt like an earthquake hitting where I stood.

The aperture disappeared from the sky, and I realized I knew what was happening.

Stefano is fighting Sebastian. Stefano is fighting Sebastian in an impaired and completely broken mind.

Perhaps I could not forgive him just yet for how he's treated me. But he's setting himself up for disaster. If he's fighting Sebastian him just after his work was destroyed, he won't be thinking straight and likely will put too much faith in his own abilities.

I took off towards the theater. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.

Please, please let him be okay. Please let him be safe.

I was still angry that part of me cared about him, but I didn't think about that now. I didn't want to go to war with myself while someone I love is in danger. I just wanted to act on this fear. I wanted to keep the man who I love safe. I want to bring him back into the man I fell in love with.

The hows, the whys, the whats will all have to wait. I have to save him. If nothing else, from his own stupidity. He has to survive this.

I held a hand to my flat stomach. For their sake, at least. Please, he has to survive this...


	27. Parting Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V sad chapter. The story isn't over yet! But a v sad chapter, so continue at your own risk.

I burst through the doors of the theater. "Stefano!" I yelled out as I tried to catch my breath.

I heard gunshots somewhere in the building. I gasped aloud, sprinting forward. I continued to run to him, feeling there was nothing left for me to do.

I ran up the stairs, my lungs completely protesting against me. I kept pushing myself forward. I needed to find him.

I held out the hope I could save him. Why I wanted to even now was escaping me. I couldn't rationally explain it, after he had begun to manipulate me and cut me into pieces, and essentially left me to die... I still wanted to save him. At least save him from himself.

I ran through the door that lead to the auditorium. I gasped aloud, seeing Sebastian standing in the open isle, pointing a gun at Stefano.

Stefano was standing on the stage, lights trained on him. He was admiring the people in the seats, their instance of death frozen as soon as their heads had been destroyed, allowing large fountains of blood to spurt from their necks.

His eye was drawn to me as I shoved the door open. An angered look on his face for being interrupted appeared, then shifted away, back to Sebastian again. He looked shocked as his eye darted back to me, completely surprised to see me. A crooked smile crossed his face as he took in the sight of me.

I stared at him, and suddenly the landscape changed around us as he lifted his arm. We were in a hallway of his world. His smile widened as he gestured to me.

"My _bella_ , you have returned to me..."

I took a hesitant step forward. Then I broke into a run again, renewed energy surging through me. My lungs felt like I was swallowing ice and daggers as I panted. I ached for my arms to wrap around him.

I crashed into his chest, holding him close. The force of the impact made him stumble back a little, but he regained his balance quickly, and I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. His warmth, cologne, and presence washed over me. I hid my face in his suit, pressing my face into his scarf as I felt his fingers thread through my hair. I sobbed into his chest as my lungs protested, grasping onto him as I felt relief now that he was here. I'd just barely come in time.

After a moment, I pulled away, backing up a few paces. His eye looked over me, and I saw it lingering on my stomach. There was a smile across his face, and I could see something had changed since he had left me. He had changed further, a more cruel and unkind demeanor had set in.

"So, why did you come back to me?"

My heart pounded in my throat, watching his eyes glimmer with their normal cruelty, contrasted by the sweetness in his smile. It was a sweetness I knew wasn't real, it wasn't possible for him to empathize or feel anything close to love. But damn him and his smile; I could feel it work it's way into my veins and set fire to them. I could feel my skin melt in my cheeks as the blood flared in them and my heart began to beat faster.

"I... You couldn't keep me away if you tried, Stefano."

I looked away as I heard him begin to step closer. I heard his chuckle ring out as he closed the distance between us. His hands were warm as they wrapped around my back; tense, but gentle. At any moment, I knew the circumstance could turn poor, he could and would hurt me if he chose.

"Oh, Cara mia. . ." he murmured as his breath rolled over my ear. "Who said I wanted to keep you away?"

I grabbed him back, holding him to me. "I knew you were about to do something stupid. I knew you were going to face off against that man without... Without actually thinking about it."

"Mm-hmm... And you think it isn't a good idea to kill him?"

"No. No, especially not right now."

He withdrew from my arms. "Oh, is there a right time to cause deaths? A golden hour to capture the proper lighting?"

I shook off his sarcasm, vigorously shaking my head. "No, please listen to me."

I reached for him. He jerked away at first, and I saw him questioning it in his own mind. His face shifted to that of anger, but then he froze as one of confusion branched across it. I grabbed his gloved hand, holding onto it tightly.

"Please, please... Listen to me. You aren't thinking straight. You haven't been thinking straight since you found that girl. No, you haven't been yourself since Union began breaking apart."

I watched his eyebrow furrow a little bit. "How so?"

"You've become uncontrolled... You haven't been creating your work the way you used to. You've been so caught up in scaring the little girl and fighting her father. You've been so busy trying to kill so many people, you haven't created any of the work you care most about."

"I've been creating my art, _bella._ That is the room we were just in."

"No! You aren't creating the works you used to. You're killing just to kill... You're not the Stefano I fell in love with! You've completely changed, and I..."

He flinched, his body jerking violently away from me. His hand was still in my grasp, but he had pulled away as though to get away from what I've said.

"You're too focused on the concept and not portraying your work the way you love."

"And what is the way I love?" his voice turned darker, and a glazed look overcame his eye. It was like he was talking to someone else now, like he was no longer seeing me.

I let go of his hand. I moved forward and grasped his face, pulling him down to me to look him directly in the eye. He wasn't listening to what I was saying about himself, so I tried my last tactic.

"P-please..." I whispered, my voice beginning to tremble. "Please, you can't take that little girl from her dad."

"Why?"

"B-because... It's not fair, it's not... Fair..." my hand drifted to my stomach.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against my ear. "Say it, my muse."

"Y-you can't take that girl from her father. You... of all people, you can't keep them apart. You can't try to fight him in this state, please, it's not fair."

"And why is that?"

"I... I-I..." My voice cracked. I slid my other hand over my stomach. I held my lower belly despite that I couldn't see what I now knew what was there.

"My muse..."

"I'm pregnant..." I whimpered, reaching for him and holding onto his jacket, almost collapsing. "I'm... I'm pregnant... You and I... Before coming to Union, I was pregnant. I don't know how it's not showing, but I haven't been experiencing my period all this time. I began to suspect it before I came here, so I kept trying to find you, I kept trying to get the police to listen that you were missing. I tried to find you because I love you, and I wanted to tell you before it's too late that you're the father of my child... I tried not to think about it, I tried to reason it away, I didn't want to think about it, but, I... b-but..."

"I know, my lovely muse..." He helped me to my knees, to keep me from collapsing. His eye shifted, and came back into focus on me. "... I was shown it... Before you came through those doors, I saw you were pregnant, someone showed it to me as they put me in of my worst nightmares."

I nodded, holding onto him tighter. "I don't know why I'm here, I don't know how... I... I just want you safe, please... S-stay..."

"I will."

I looked up at him. He smiled gently, and leaned down, placing his face in my neck. For the first time in several months, I finally recognized the Stefano coming back to speak with me. His face relaxed, and a tender look in his eye developing as it took in the rest of my face.

"My Rose..."

A shiver raced up my spine, making me turn away.

"I knew I wasn't acting right when I went through that nightmare all over again... But you were there, almost exactly as I had seen you now, but... You were carrying my child."

He pulled me closer, digging his face into my shoulder. I tucked my face against his neck, just trying to hold him closer than was physically possible. He was stronger in his own mind now, he was going to be safe.

"But... I wasn't really aware of how I was acting, no matter how much I was faced with it... I... I gave up the memory of you... I couldn't even remember your name for so, so long..."

I felt him shift, pressing his lips into my neck. I trembled quietly.

"I believe... My power... Has been corrupting me, my jewel."

I felt him physically grimace at that nickname. He vaguely shook his head, clearing out that idea.

"Whatever these gifts are, they cannot be safe for anyone. Not even myself, and I thought I would be able to handle them even as they grew..."

"Can you give them up?"

"... No, I think... I'm sure it would kill me."

I pulled away, looking into his eye. I held my breath, then leaned forward. I kissed him, the first time I was able to in a long time. His fingers twitched against my skin, and he kissed me back, pulling me against his frame.

"Perhaps..." he hummed aloud as he thought. "The only way for us to leave together... Is if I give up my powers along with my life."

I jerked away for a moment. "No!"

He laughed, and I finally noticed the dark circles situated under his eyes. How long had it been since he last slept?

"I do not mean that I would physically throw my life away. I was hoping I would be able to get to the point I do not need to worry about my powers anymore."

"No. I won't allow it."

He laughed quietly. "You know there would be no way for you to stop me, my dear. But, for now, I will listen."

He pressed his lips to mine, making me gasp aloud. His tongue touched mine, slicking against it and traversing my mouth. He held me to him tightly, and it felt like he thought it was something final.

"I never said it, my dear. I never could think it without panicking and worrying..." Stefano leaned forward and pressed his lips against my ear again, a quiet croaking in the back of his throat.. "But... I love you. I love you, Rose..."

I turned and kissed him, feeling him push me to the floor. I held him tightly, feeling his chest press into mine. When he was done kissing me, he sighed as he pulled away from me.

"I must leave you, my dear. I cannot risk harming you when it begins to corrupt me again."

"I don't want you to go..."

He sighed again through his nose. "That man will kill me regardless. He will come looking for us, even if I turn that girl over to him."

His hand slid over my stomach, gently caressing and petting it.

"Please... My dear love, my inspiration... My muse..."

He leaned down, pressing his face against my stomach. He pushed the side of his head as he turned it, resting against it. I reached down, grasping onto his shoulder, trying to push him to me and force him to stay here.

"If the only way to rid myself of this feeling, of my own power... Is to pass away... The only way to protect you, and this new one... Then I'm afraid I must leave you."

I shook my head. "No, we can... We can figure this out."

"No..." He raised his head slightly, trying to look up into my eyes from this angle. "You know, my love. You know that I do not have a choice anymore. I have dug myself a hole, and I must lie in it."

He sat up above me, and I pulled him to me. He kept a hand against my belly, supporting himself by his elbow by my neck.

"My most wonderful muse... You are so beautiful... I never wanted to bring you harm once I found you again. I must choose this path myself."

He lay down on me slightly. His lips met mine gently, feeling the most love waving off him and rushing over me. I pulled him tightly to me, trying to raise my legs over his hips. I wanted to do anything, _anything_ to keep him with me, but he kept lowering my legs back to the ground.

"You are not my toy..." he whispered as he pulled away, lips brushing against mine as he spoke. "You are not something just here for my pleasure. You are not something for me to use, _bella._ But... you are the person I love."

I tried to laugh quietly. "You feel love now, when it's too late."

He smiled, but it seemed to droop slightly. His eye closed, and he tucked his head against my collarbone. I felt his hands moving up my skirt, and I thought he had changed his mind.

He lifted the skirt just to my waist, and I held onto his shoulders, trying to ready myself for making love here. He slid off his gloves and set them down by my head. He kissed my collarbone gently, his warm, gentle hands sliding onto my flat belly.

"I'm sure, where ever you wake up, you will be able to see them. I wish you would be able to stay with me, and I wish I could say I believed we both would be able to leave together... But, if this is our last moment together... Just promise me one last thing."

"A-anything..." I whimpered, begging internally this wasn't goodbye. "I'll do anything."

"I know you would..." He lifted his head, and his lips pressed into mine. His eye became glazed over, and I saw him try to blink it away. "One last thing, my beauty. One last promise... Take care of our little one. Take care of our baby, and give them as much love, dedication, and compassion you have given me."

I nodded furiously, intertwining his hair in my fingers. He obliged as I pulled him into me for more kisses. "I promise... I promise..."

"Good girl." he laughed quietly.

He sat off of me, helping me sit up. I felt tears streaming down my face, refusing to let him say goodbye.

"My love, I'm so sorry." A tight sound appeared in his voice, and I could almost visibly watched as my Stefano slipped away. "But I must leave you now. Otherwise, I will hurt you. Go away from me before I become the thing that will kill you. Do not hesitate. Just go."

I stood up, watching him sitting on his knees. I pressed my lips into his one last time. I turned away from the man I felt love for once again, turning away as my heart broke again. The man I was in love with began to disappear, but he still had the graciousness to fight and come through just at the last moment.

"I love you." I stated as I turned away from him.

"And I love you, my muse." he barely managed, and I heard the sound of him teleporting away from me.

And I continued down the hallways, searching for my way out, or for a safe area to wait out until the inevitable occurred. I wiped my tears away, praying that somehow, somehow, he would break through. If I could survive what he did to me, I prayed he could survive what was coming his way.


	28. Theodore

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

I'm so tired. I watched the woman I love turn and run away from me.

I didn't know what I had done to her. I didn't remember her name for so long. Her name escaped me once I changed her into my creation. Rose disappeared from my mind as I tried to top myself in each creation I made.

I didn't realize my greatest creation had been standing at my side all this time.

We'd had barely a few weeks together, but I still wanted to spend time with her. I still wanted to be with her, to spend time like a normal relationship. In the first time in years, I had taken interest in another human. In someone that wasn't like me, who wasn't me.

I had become so involved with my own work that I pushed her away, tearing her apart in the process.

And now here I lay. Just waiting. Alone. My eyelid barely moved as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Listening to the ever-fading sound of my own heartbeat slowing down. It's pacing made me tired, and I felt all strength slipping out of my wounds.

I had sent her away in hopes she would escape this nightmare. Escape me as I continued to forget who I was and forget my surroundings.

I'm so tired. I've stayed awake for so long, so many days passing me by. So many days that would have seemed like a gift if I had known what I was given.

My Rose. My _bella._ My muse...

My everything.

And I had realized just how much she meant to me far, far too late.

At least, now, she was free from the part of me that tried to hurt her. That piece of me that wanted to hurt her, the piece that wanted to hurt the father of the core, the piece that wanted to assimilate the core, all of that was already dead. It was all gone from my mind, freeing me from the control it had over me.

I could barely think, my shallow breathing barely meeting my lungs. I thought I could hear my heart stop several times as I just waited.

My camera lay, shattered just out of reach. I didn't have the strength to grab it, nor could I have used it if I did. I attempted to take a single last picture of that man, Sebastian Castellanos. He shot as I sat up to take a single photo, but instead of the bullet meeting its mark it struck the lens and stopped just before it exited the casing. In surprise, my will gave way and my body collapsed, now without much purpose left in me. My power faded from my grasp, the world I had created now disappearing around us, and moved us to the last place we had been within Union.

I wasn't certain if it was blood or my power that was flowing out of me. I was sure it was both, draining me, only a small amount of time before I completely slipped away.

In my state, I felt something holding my chin. Something soft pressed into my skin, moving my head as I could not. With the last amount of my strength, I focused my eye on whatever was attempting to disturb me as I lay dying. I couldn't even bring myself to care if it was the ghostly woman come to torment me in my last moments.

I felt my brow furrow in frustration, trying to focus and see what lay before me.

"Stefano...?" A sweet, gentle, familiar voice spoke.

I felt a small amount of a smile crossed my face. " _Mia bella..._ " was all I could manage, my voice barely available anymore, restricted by my inability to breathe. " _(You... have come back... to me...)_ "

"I'm here..." she whispered, and I saw the silhouette I could barely make out move closer. "I'm here. I won't let you die alone."

I was vaguely aware of a hand fitting into mine. I swallowed, closing my eyelid as I felt her lips press into mine one last time.

" _Cara mia... Ti... Ti amo..._ " I could barely muster as she pulled away.

I could feel her stroking my face. Something wet hit my cheek, and I felt her press her lips to mine again, keeping her right hand intertwined in my left.

My last moments, and the woman who gave me everything decided she would give me one last thing.

"I... I love you..." She whimpered against my lips. "I love you..."

" _Cara..._ "

"I love you..."

She silenced me with her lips, and I felt myself slip further away. It all seemed so distant. It felt like I was put on a strong concentration of morphine, putting me to sleep as the pain fell away. My body felt disconnected to my consciousness, and I felt fingers brush through my bangs.

I watched Rose brush her fingers through my hair, finally seeing fully the scarring on my face. She didn't look at me with pity, she didn't look at me with disgust. She just looked sad, and heartbroken.

"I... I love you..." her voice shook as she leaned down, pressing her lips on the scars. It felt so delicate, so sweet in the fleeting moment. "I forgive you..."

I mouthed a word of thanks to her, my breathing ceasing and refusing to let me speak. It began to all disappear around me. If it were possible to explain, everything stopped. My available eyelid closed with a small flutter, and the sensation of her tears dripping onto my face was the last thing I felt.

 _Perhaps..._ I thought. _Perhaps, one day, my love, we will meet again in another life..._

The darkness faded into a bright, white light, and I lost all feeling in my body. I thought I saw that little girl again, the core. She was crying as a little child would, and turned away into the light. I could only smile, content that my love sat next to me. Happy, in a way, that she would be able to see me as my last creation.

I could feel warmth, safe, as feeling returned to my limbs. As though my dear muse had wrapped her arms tightly around me, the blinding light taking over me. I felt cold, as though I was already freezing six feet under. My strength returned to me, and I sat up, wondering what the afterlife held for someone like me.

-

_-Rose's P.O.V.-_

Stefano stopped moving, stopped reacting to me. His chest stopped moving, his silent spoken whispers had stopped coming.

He was gone.

I wished I had been able to understand what he had said, everything had been spoken in Italian. He seemed to try and see me, eye distant and faded. His eye was bloodshot and the one I now know was missing was bleeding profusely. I could see blood branching across his nose, as though his scar had been opened and extended while he was using his power.

I didn't know what to do. This hurt, so so much. Watching him die, watching him in so much pain, and not being able to do anything.

Stefano Valentini is dead.

I curled up on his chest, sobbing quietly against him. I wanted to hear him say something, speak to me one last time. I wanted to hear his heartbeat and feel his chest rise and fall with his breathing. But that would never come again.

You never really know what you have. Until it's gone.

I ran my fingers through his bangs again. I knew it wouldn't last between us, but I didn't think we would be saying goodbye like this.

The only comfort I could think of was no one would hurt him again. No one would be able to hurt him through his art. No one would be able to bother him ever again.

The cost didn't seem fair. A life for a life.

His life for the life I carried with me.

I wiped at my eyes, trying to dry the tears that kept coming down my face. I swallowed the spit that had accumulated in my mouth, trying to find the strength to leave his side.

I leaned over him, pressing my lips to his forehead. It was the first time I had returned that gesture. I didn't want to leave him just yet, but knew eventually those lost creatures would find their way in here. The backstage area was the only way I could come in, so I think the locked door might keep them away for at least a little while.

"So, you regained your memories without the need for my help."

I gasped, and hunched over Stefano's body. I leaned over him, trying to see the newcomer in front of me.

A black man with a scar on his face, dressed in black and red robes stood before me, hands pressed firmly over a cane that he held in front of where he stood. I recognized him immediately from when I had been the Obscura. He was the man who had looked for Lily in the first place. The person who had sent Stefano to his death.

"Good evening, Rose Olian."

"Get away." I seethed through my clenched teeth.

A smile crossed his face. "Even in death, even after you manage to amend your own trauma, you stay by the man who hurt you."

His voice sounded odd, echoing around the room as though it was made of pure stone.

"Please, just leave us alone."

"And you blame me for his own doing." he laughed as though the thought was preposterous. "You do not know who he was before this."

"How dare you say that!" I shouted. "How dare you say that about him."

"I've been speaking with him longer than you could possibly believe. I found my way into his trust, and helped him achieve what he desired the most; a place to create and recognition of his work's process."

The area changed around us, and I watched Stefano's body disappear in front of me.

"Take me back to him!"

"Let the dead lay where they fall, miss Rose."

I swallowed, burning rage twisting around in my stomach as he referred to me by my first name, and with the formality Stefano had used as well. The anger I felt seemed to please him, another smile lighting up his face.

"I can offer you refuge, and offer you a safe way out of this world to raise the child of your dreams."

I screwed my mouth into a frown. "I don't know what you've said to others, I don't care what you've said to manipulate everyone. You are nothing but a cult leader with a stupid Napoleon Complex."

His face fell.

"What you don't understand is you can't sweet-talk your way into anyone's head. Stefano never trusted you, he showed me after he changed me."

He raised a hand, trying to silence me. A loud roar of fire started up around me, the heat of the flames appearing around me once the sound occurred. I raised my arms in front of my face, trying to block the overwhelming heat that came from all around me.

"If you listen to me, Rose, I can help you."

"I don't want your help!" I shouted over the loud flames.

"That's quite a shame. You could have had such a gift, your compassion for others would have made you a wonderful leader in the new world."

I felt something like back draft, and I watched as the flames pulled in front of me, swirling around in front of the man. They formed a column of fire, a tornado as they swirled in on themselves.

"I can show you what you want."

The flames all at once dissipated, and I saw at once a familiar face. Stefano stood before me, an empty, sad look across his face. He wore a black suit, the jacket I had first ever seen him in fluttering as the fire fell apart from him.

"I can give you the life you so desperately desire."

"Do you not believe in me?" I heard my love's voice inside my head, coaxing me for his praise.

He walked carefully towards me, his steps calculated and hesitant. His feet left small trails of fire where he stood, each lift of his foot scaring the carpet he placed each step.

"You..." I took a step back, then I turned my attention to the man again. "No. No, this isn't real."

Stefano, or really the not-real Stefano, stopped in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, searing pain branching through my body. I screamed aloud, feeling my flesh burn and begin to crackle under his touch.

I pushed away the apparition, causing him to stumble backwards and fall over. His body disappeared as soon as I did so, as did the pain in my skin.

The man grumbled quietly, and he disappeared. The area on which I stood fell away, and I fell several stories through inky blackness.

"You will only continue to make the same mistakes." I heard the booming, honey-sweet voice surrounding me. "If you do not grip your own life by the reigns and move past who you are, you will fall and destroy yourself."

I slammed into a wall, collapsing onto the floor that had appeared below me. I coughed and sputtered, the wind completely knocked out of me.

I gasped as pain shot through my body. I placed a hand where it hurt worst. I gasped as I tried to resist the pain, and stood up. I saw that man standing before me again.

"You will only ever repeat your mistakes, Rose."

He extended his hand as I tried to gasp for air. The pain in my abdomen began straining even more, like I had ruptured something inside of me.

"Take my hand, and you will be granted everything you truly desire."

As I felt another surge in pain, I could mentally hear myself screaming very, very loudly. I lifted a middle finger to him as I tried to ignore the pain.

"Yeah, well fuck you." I managed to breathe out.

He frowned again, placing his outreached hand back upon his cane. "Perhaps you need more time to see the light. When you are ready to be folded into my flock, come find me again. Eventually you will call me Father Theodore as well as my conjuring."

He disappeared, and my surroundings did too. I bit back a grimace, trying to take in my surroundings. I hissed quietly, trying to ignore whatever it is inside of me that's causing this much pain.

I saw I was in a forest, and I tried to move into some of the trees.

I sat down, trying to see if I could get some bearings. I bit onto my tongue, and my lip, as I begin to poke around my stomach where it hurt worst. I tried to find where it all was coming from, but I couldn't seem to find the exact spot where it hurt. I thought I had snapped something in my waist or ruptured an organ.

I leaned back against the tree, just trying to wait it out. Hopefully it's just some internal bruising or something related to stress.

I hissed out as some more of the agony wrought my frame, hearing my own mental screaming again.

I just need to wait this out...


	29. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose comes to terms with her surroundings and having lost the man she loves. Some new players enter her world and decide to keep her safe/

The pain continued for what felt like hours. After a while it began to let up, but it was so slow and agonizing. I gripped my stomach, feeling like everything in my insides began turning inside out.

I didn't move, hoping I didn't reek too much of blood and death. I didn't know if those creatures were still around, or if I was even anywhere near Union. I didn't want to take chances, so I did my best to keep a low profile and didn't make sound as best I could.

Heavy breathing and pain that sends tears cascading down your face isn't the easiest way to stay silent. Focusing on preventing hyperventilating was one of the major things I had to pay attention to.

After what felt like eons, the pain subsided. The mental anguish that made me want to scream died down. I just wondered why I was in so much pain, why it went on for so long. It seemed like a lot for my back hitting a wall, and in the wrong area. I swallowed, and sat still for much longer, just trying to gather my thoughts. I focused on my trembling breath, my body filled with the shock of the pain. It hurt inside of me still, and felt like someone had gripped my lower internal organs and tore them to pieces.

I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted. I lay down in the grass, feeling the cool earth under my skin. I breathed deeply, trying to find comfort in the idea that I wasn't hurting as much. The sweat that caked my body began cooling and drying, despite the humidity from the surrounding forest. It was foggy, but it was cool, and it felt nice after all the pain and heat my body had experienced. I was so tired now...

My eyes snapped open as I heard someone talking. No, scratch that, two people talking. They were walking closer, and I glanced over towards them.

I saw that man again, Sebastian. Is he following me? He was walking along with a young white woman with long, brown hair. They were speaking about something, but I couldn't hear them all that well.

I held my breath for a moment, then decided to do something stupid. I stood up and began walking towards them.

"Excuse me!" I called out. "Excuse me...!"

Sebastian lifted a gun that was in his hand, pointing it in my direction. "Come out, now!"

I moved out of the trees with my hands above my head. "Please, don't shoot!"

"Who are you and what are you doing out here?!" His tone of ferocity turned to one of confusion.

"S-sorry, I'm just a citizen of Union!" I called out as I approached them. "I.. I don't know how I got here. I think I need some help..."

The woman walked towards me, a large automatic gun in her hands. I saw her finger was hovering over the trigger, and she studied me for a little bit.

"Come with us," she said. "We're heading to a safe area. We can keep you safe for now."

Sebastian stuttered, gesturing to me while he tried to gather his words. "You're just going to let a random citizen into your safe house?"

"Stay by us unless we get into trouble." She said, ignoring his comments. "Then stay behind the spray of the gun fire. I'm Esmeralda Torres, and I'll be pleased to meet you if we all get there alive."

After a moment, I followed them. It was odd, knowing I had attacked Sebastian when I wasn't myself. I could feel him keeping an eye on me, every once in a while glancing back at me to make sure I wasn't somehow about to kill them. It was certainly more odd now as I could easily recognize him, but I doubt he would recognize any part of me, no matter how much he stared.

After some hushed whispers between them, they fell silent for a small remainder of their walk. Then Torres stopped as an explosion occurred in the distance, muttering "Oh no" as she ran forward. I carefully, quietly follow behind. There was a house burning down in what looked like a small clearing. A tall man-creature with no face kicked open the door that faced us, what appeared to be an odd flame-thrower being used to continue burning the house down.

All I'm able to hear her say is "I wouldn't put my safe house out in the open like that." as the two continued their quiet whispers.

Torres turns to me and gestures me to follow her. Sebastian moved off towards the horde, and I watched him almost completely disappear in some bushes. I gulped quietly and stayed close to Torres's back. She whispered how we needed to make our way through the clearing. I nodded, keeping close to her as we made our way there.

"Keep your head down, and stay still."

We froze where we sat, behind a wall, and she pressed herself over me as she watched our surroundings.

After some time, we made our way through the clearing. We found our way up a hill, crouching down behind a tree on top of it. A minute later, Sebastian came up to us, allowing Torres to lift a hatch that was in the ground.

We climbed down a ladder, Torres entering last. She said something down to us about disarmed explosives and them being safe.

Torres led me to a couch in the corner of the room. I tried to thank her, ask if she wanted me to do anything, but she just told me to lay down and sleep. I couldn't help but oblige, my body exhausted, sore, and still in mild pain.

I lay my head down on the couch, and I let myself fall asleep.

-

I woke after several hours of hard sleep. I blinked at my surroundings, seeing bright white lights around the room. Florescent lights stared back at me, making me squint as I tried to . I felt groggy, and a headache began taking over. I sat up, holding onto my head.

"Ugh..." I vocalized, feeling my body ache as I moved.

"Hey, it's good to see you're okay!" I looked up at the woman who had just sat down next to me.

Torres sat next to me, placing both her hands on my shoulders, shaking me a little as she spoke. I smiled and nodded weakly.

"Th-thank you so much."

She kept smiling kindly at me. "Don't think about it. I can't imagine what you've been doing to stay alive after all those hordes were running around."

"Hordes?"

"Yeah, those groups of z-assholes that try and gang up on smaller numbers are pretty wild, yeah."

I shook my head slightly, ignoring the throbbing in my head. "Yeah... It's hard to hide from all of them."

"That's for sure."

We talked briefly about how we got here. She didn't call the town Union, she called it "the STEM system." She told me about a plan to take down the people that had created the system, after verifying I wasn't connected to a company called Mobius. She talked about how the core, Sebastian's daughter Lily, went awol and that's why the world began crumbling. The reason why the core disconnected, I didn't know. She had been stuck in this underground safe house since she arrived, ready to deploy heavy ordinances when necessary. She showed me something she was working on, arming several explosive devices. She was about to go and trip it on something she said she needed to break. I nodded weakly, and listened to her.

I asked her why she was telling me all this, and she just said she knew I was a kind soul. She reminded me of an old friend I grew up with, and she seemed sad about something I couldn't place. She said she had done something she regretted, and she was hoping to make it up to the person she had wronged.

She brought me some food, which I ate as much as I could stomach. After a while, she went with her explosives and walked into an adjacent room. I watched her type out a password on a computer, the door swinging shut. When the door shut, I heard an odd noise. I stood up, wanting to ask why she had gone to the next room since it only had one door; the one she had just gone through.

When the door swung open as I pushed it open, there was nothing in there. Torres had disappeared.

I wondered if she had some sort of magic power too. Did she just not want to show it.

I walked to the computer I saw her type on. There was an open box on screen, with a blinking bar. The screen read "Marrow Access" in red with a flickering screen.

I backed away from the computer. I didn't need anything like this, not now. Magic computers on top of people with magic powers. I was a little worn out from the unexpected reality that was around me. Instead, I wandered around the small safe area, studying some of the things she had left behind.

I drank some of the coffee that was brewing in a pot, eating some more food when I wasn't feeling so sick. The coffee made me feel a little better, but I still felt sore and weak.

I found some blank papers and some pens and pencils scattered around the room. I decided to try and draw to pass the time as I sat here.

Hours passed me by, and I found myself drawing a portrait of Stefano. I held it to my chest, letting myself mourn him some more.

Occasionally, I found myself staring at my left hand. I thought I could feel pressure holding onto it, a firm grasp around my palm. It felt comforting as I thought I felt movement, as though someone was holding my hand and something press against my temple.

I shook my head a little. I must be really losing it. Imagining a phantom hand trying to comfort me. Wow, this world has done a number on my brain.

I felt a strong rumbling around me. It knocked me off the couch, causing the drawing supplies I had gathered to scatter across the floor. I looked up, seeing something coming down the ladder.

It didn't look like a human at first. I watched a female body standing on a platform come down the entrance as the ladder flattened. I gasped as I backed up slightly. A woman stood before me, a cloak crossing over her chest and hiding her eyes. I stared as she walked into the lighting, watching as she moving forward with something dangling from underneath her hood. The way the ladder had crumbled, or really melted, reminded me of the doors I had seen in the theater after Stefano had lost his fight. The doors had seemingly completely melted to the ground, causing me to look for another way in after I saw that the seats and isles had completely fallen into the Earth.

She approached me, and I stood up with a straightened back. Where she stepped, small puddles of a white substance appeared beneath her. When she reached me, she paused. Despite the fact her eyes were obscured, she seemed to study me, a taught mouth not giving away any expression.

"You are a mother." she said quietly. "Aren't you?"

I blinked, not expecting that of all things. "I think I will be soon. I mean... I think I will be."

"No, you are a mother, and you understand the importance of protecting your child."

I was taken aback as she said that. Her tone sounded more like a statement the entire time, but that last sentence sounded like a command.

She lifted her hands, revealing white skin and hair as she pulled her hood down. Her eyes were obscured by a cloth-looking mask. I wondered if she was blind, but quickly thought that wasn't right since she was staring right at me.

"You were in contact with people who wanted to take Lily from me."

I swallowed, wondering why her tone seemed so accusing. "I... I suppose so. I... Don't know where they are anymore..."

"The first one who took her is dead. And you watched him die." She stepped forward. "You understand the importance of protecting your child, yes? What would you do for them?"

I swallowed again. "I... I would do anything... For... For my child, and... the father..."

She just stood there in my peripheral vision as I looked away. I remembered the image I had seen in the mirror-nightmare. The image of Stefano standing with me, by my side, as I held onto my stomach. My obviously pregnant belly, and he had been standing there with me.

 _"Take care of our little one."_ I could almost hear in my mind.

"Why are you here, if your child is not here?"

I looked back up at her. I shook my head. "I didn't come here by choice. I don't know how I got to... Union, or I guess... STEM?"

She was silent, and moved passed me. The room shook, and I felt something wrap around my legs. I looked down, seeing long white tendrils climbing up my frame. I shook, startled.

"Come with me, and you can find your child. Let's make a safe world for them to grow up away from their painful hands."

The floor fell apart, and I was held up by a large white creature. It grasped me tightly, and I tried to take in as much information as I could. The woman was standing with the creature, completely undisturbed as we began descending into the dark emptiness.

Before I knew it, I woke up on a couch again. I wondered if it all had just been a dream. I looked around, realizing I didn't recognize the house around me. I blinked, trying to clear the heavy sensation in the back of my head, as though I had been drugged to make me sleep.

I stood up, realizing I no longer felt the sensation of soreness and pain in my stomach. I placed a hand to it, wondering if something had gone wrong with my real body. I wandered around the room I was in, seeing what looked like a well lived-in home. I found a window and looked outside. A small sidewalk disappeared after a few feet, leading away from the house, leading to the woman standing before the building. She stood before the house, staring at the higher levels of the house I assumed I was in.

I backed away from the window. I didn't understand what this woman wanted with me. I didn't know what she was trying to do, and what kinds of powers she had in comparison to the others in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems a little rushed, I'm super sorry! I wrote myself into a hole and wasn't certain how to dig myself out of it. I am excited for what comes next, though, so I hope you enjoy what's coming!


	30. Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily, Sebastian, and Rose try to escape STEM and have to fight their way out tooth and nail. Will they be successful?

I waited inside the house, not believing I could leave without that woman coming for me. I knew what she could do, Stefano had gathered what appeared to be people that appeared on the streets that had frozen. The white, bubbling substance that froze them in their tracks looked exactly like the substance that covered her.

The core was inside the house, sleeping in a bed upstairs. She seemed to sleep here too, like when she had been stranded in the gallery. I wondered if when someone was using her power, it made her sleep.

How could someone do this to a child? Put her in a position to hold the entire world in her mind, like Torres said. At least some of it made a little more sense, why people could control part of the environment. Our minds residing on computers, or in a computer system, makes some of what's been happening understandable.

After what I've seen, I'm sure I'll believe anything now.

I watched the world seem to crumble and fall to the ground outside, as though it was turning to snow as it fluttered to the ground. The woman who brought me here had disappeared a few hours ago. Since I've come back to life, or whatever happened to me, all I've been able to do is just wait and experience what comes my way.

I wonder if I'll experience any lasting trauma if I get out of this place. From the looks of it, it doesn't look like any of us are getting out alive. Or even unscathed.

I was standing in Lily's bedroom, looking out her window, trying to feel I was doing something. I didn't have any powers, and I don't think I could do much without a weapon. But since I was here, I thought I should stay with her at least.

I saw Sebastian out the window where I stood. He was running up to the house, and I wondered what he was about to do. I had briefly seen him out of the window before, but he had disappeared when I got closer to the window.

I heard a door open downstairs. Some loud pounding footsteps ran around the lower floor, then made their way upstairs. I saw Lily stir in her bed as I turned away from the window.

The door opened, and I saw him walk in. Sebastian stood there, blood completely covering his face. He glanced at Lily laying in bed, then noticed me standing there too.

"You!" he said aloud. "How did you get here?"

"The woman in white brought me here. I was in Torres' safe area, but she came for me before Esmeralda could come back."

He looked briefly to the side, and I saw something like sadness shift on his face. "She isn't coming back."

I swallowed, watching him approach Lily in the bed. I briefly wanted to stop him, pushing down the feeling quickly.

 _Don't irritate the man with a dozen guns strapped to his back._ I thought.

"Lily..." he muttered as though to himself, sitting on her bed. "My sweet little girl..."

Lily turned over and looked up at him. "Dad...?"

I saw her glance over at me as he pulled her up. "It's me, Lily. I'm here."

"You're watching over me again?" she said quietly, still looking at me.

"You know her?"

"She was guarding me... Before..."

Lily's voice sounded tired, like she was about to pass out. She turned back to her father, tears beginning crawling down her face.

"Is it really you?"

"Shhh. It's really me. I'm here to take you home."

She nodded slightly, head dipping forward. "You mean we're not home?"

Despite the blood across his face, the exhaustion that followed him, a weight looked like it had been lifted from Sebastian's shoulders. He looked at his daughter with such a kind and happy look on his face.

"No, baby. But we will be soon."

Lily's head dipped forward some more as he raised his left hand, petting her hair. "So tired..."

I felt I was intruding on this moment. I'm not apart of their family, and I've never seen someone so determined to take care of their child. This heartwarming moment wasn't mine to be part of, but I couldn't move away from watching it.

"Go back to sleep." Sebastian said. "When you wake up, we'll be safe again..."

"Can she come too?"

I watched her point at me. I looked at her, surprised, and so did her father. She had been terrified of me when I was the Obscura, but now she seemed at ease around me. She had warmed up to me as I trailed behind her while she was in the gallery, but my presence still made her scared. Now that I was human, she was gesturing to me and asking me to follow.

"Yes, yes she can." Sebastian said. I wondered if it was possible for him to say no to something she wanted.

Lily tucked her head into his chest, and he lifted her up. She seemed to instantly fall asleep again in his arms. He stood up, holding her close, as though he hadn't touched his daughter in years.

"C'mon. Let's get out of this hell."

I nodded, following him from behind as he began to make his way out of the child's bedroom. He walked down the hallway carefully, and instantly made his way down the stairs.

He stopped on the landing, watching as the front door opened. Light poured in from outside as a woman stood there. It took me a second to realize who it was, her skin now a more tan color and her hair completely blonde rather than pure white. A wide-necked white shirt and jeans covered her body, and her mask had gone. She held herself up by the frame of the door, breathing heavily as though she was out of breath or about to pass out on the spot.

"Myra!" Sebastian cried out.

She looked relieved as he approached her quickly. She smiled despite the pain she seemed to be in, trying to straighten up.

"I've got her! Come on. Let's get the hell out of here."

Myra shook her head, a more saddened look taking over her face. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. I can't."

"Yes you can! I'll carry both of you if you have to, but I'm not--"

She shook her head again. "No..." She breathed for a second before continuing, and I saw there were bruises developing on her body. "Mobius has to be stopped."

She moved forward, limping as she walked into the house, passed her spouse and child into the house.

"Screw Mobius. We've lost too much time to them already!" He moved to follow her as she paused in the living room. "We can get away, just the three of us. We'll go someplace where they'll never find us."

She turned to him, moving closer and pressing her hand against his face. I felt a twinge in my chest, knowing exactly why she was doing it. I had done the same thing several hours ago. I wondered if I looked the same way as I held my own spouse's face. I shook my head, placing a hand over my stomach again, the habit ingrained in me now that I know I'm with child. He wasn't my spouse, and we were only in a relationship for a few weeks, if you could call it that. But I still loved him with all my heart.

"There's nowhere to hide. They're everywhere." her tone was urgent, and I heard a sound like she was choking back tears. "Lily will always be in danger... Unless I destroy them."

Sebastian hesitated, and I knew all the options were going through his head. "Okay, fine. I'll wait. Once Mobius is gone, we'll--"

"It doesn't work that way, Sebastian! It can only be done from the inside."

She turned away, dropping her hand and placing the other on her chest. I moved towards the front door, trying to pull myself out from watching them talk. It felt all too familiar to me.

"STEM is more than just this place. All of Mobius are connected to it via the chips in their heads..."

Sebastian shook his head as she kept talking.

"Once I assume the power of the Core, I can transmit a signal just as Union collapses... A signal that can take Mobius down once and for all."

He moved towards her, trying to protest. "But... We're finally together again..."

"There's no other choice. This is part of the Plan. It always has been. I'm sorry..."

"Myra..." I heard him walk closer to her.

I realized I hadn't been watching them, having turned my head to the side. I didn't bother to try and look back at them, trying to fight my own tears and memories from taking over.

"Shhh... Just... promise to take care of the little one..." Her voice broke. "Never let her forget how much her mother loved her."

"... Myra, there's so much I want to say to you--"

Sebastian was silenced for a few seconds, but I still didn't look up at them.

"You don't have to say anything. I've been watching you all this time. I know how you've suffered. What they've done to you... What I did to you. You didn't ask for any of this. And you've been into hell twice for it. It's time for you to leave now... To live the life that was taken from you..."

There was hesitation, coming from the man holding onto his daughter. There was silence from the woman, knowing she was sacrificing herself to save the two of them.

It felt all too familiar, sending away the two people she cares most about to give them a chance at life away from the hell that had ensnared them. I hid my face in my hands, trying to ignore my own pain. I didn't want to remember Stefano's last words to me, didn't want to be overcome by my own pesky emotions as I listened to this family have their last conversation together.

"I love you, Myra..."

"... I love you, too. Both of you. That's why I'm doing this... But there's no more time. You have to go. Now."

I glanced up as Sebastian turned away from Myra. He hesitated as he took a step forward. Then he lifted his head, a pained and heartbroken look across his face. He walked passed me, quickly going out the front door.

"Go with him." I heard Myra say. "You don't need to stay behind. You have a chance to live, too."

I swallowed, and nodded.

"I'm sorry he died, too. I was briefly aware of how he felt before I took Lily once Stefano died. He was thinking of you in his last moments."

"I went to him just before he passed."

"I know." She nodded. "Now go. Take care of the child you have. Don't take the life you have with them for granted."

I put a hand over my stomach. "Th-thank you."

I turned, walking out of the front door after the man and his daughter. The calm landscape had turned into a violent sandstorm. He was talking into a walkie-talkie, static barely making it through.

"How do you have reception?" I asked over the sound of the wind.

"Myra is staying behind. You know why." was all he said into the mic on his device.

"-- We don't have much time." the voice came through the box as I approached.

"I'm counting on you, Kidman."

After that, he put his walkie-talkie away. He turned to me, gesturing his head. He lifted his daughter to sit in his arms better, beginning to move forward.

"Come with me. Might as well save the last person here, but I'm not going to wait for you."

"Okay."

He began running without another word. I began running along with him, just a few paces behind him. The sidewalk disappeared beneath us, leading into the white sand of the empty wasteland. I saw a bright light in the distance.

"Don't worry, Lily... We're almost there..." I heard him say quietly to the sleeping girl in his arms.

I stumbled in the sand, pushing myself forward. We were still tens of hundreds of yards away from the light, but I didn't question his statement.

We kept running, but he froze, turning away and slinging Lily around. I barely stopped myself as a giant rock slammed into the earth right in front of him.

"Oh my god..." he said, sounding exasperated.

After gathering himself and readjusting his daughter, he began running again. I followed behind, not being a fast runner all my life. Stress and adrenaline certainly do a lot to make you move faster. That and running downhill in a sandstorm certainly helps.

The sky was falling apart above us, and it felt like it was very rapidly growing darker. I almost didn't notice the ground beneath my feet crumbling. I felt my dress being pulled back.

"Please..." I heard Sebastian speak, pulling me back aggressively. "Don't run off a cliff, that's not how you stay alive."

We continued running along a precarious patch of suspended sand. I saw what looked like an empty half room laying open before us, almost buried in the ground. Several boulders slammed into the ground around us, almost cutting me off as one knocked me over briefly.

"We're gonna be home soon... Just gotta hang on..." I heard him tell his daughter.

I followed behind again once I had sprung up. I ran after them, seeing him run into the open room. He ran to the bright light, stopping and turning around to see me.

I ran passed him, stopping just briefly as I turned back. I opened my mouth to ask why he had stopped, but the loud crackling and rumbling silenced me. The entire room shook violently, as though this part of the room was about to break apart

The ground under Sebastian's feet cracked and instantly began falling into the darkness. "No! Lily!"

He slung Lily up and over the lip as he fell. He threw her several feet away from the hole, and I went to the edge as she sat up.

"Dad!"

His hands were still on the edge, and I saw him pull himself up. I used the very tired and weak muscles I had to help pull him back up. Once he had gotten back onto the floor, he ran to his daughter and hugged her. He lifted her back up, turning to the source of the light.

A broken mirror was the last source of light in this world. Lily reached out to me, and I grabbed onto her hand, initially to help comfort her. Her grip tightened around my hand, as though she didn't want to let go of it.

"Hold tight!" Sebastian said loudly.

She held onto my hand, and he outstretched his hand to the mirror. The mirror's light encompassed my vision, almost blinding me. It was like I could feel the warmth of it passing over my body, passing through me.

At first, I thought I was dead, flinching away from the bright lighting around me. It was so bright where I was.

Did I let go of Lily's hand? I couldn't feel much now, as though I no longer had a hold of the little girls hand in the frenzy of what happened.

My body was cold. The warmth disappeared, and it felt like I had full control of my body for the first time in a while. My eyes fluttered open again, still shying away from the bright light.


	31. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose awakens, terrified, and not sure where she is.

I sat up with a jerk. I gasped aloud, trying to breathe deeply. My body felt stiff, and the water around me felt freezing. Or if it wasn't water, I wasn't sure what it was.

I stared down at what I had assumed was water. It was red, several filaments of dark substance floating around as I stirred it up. I looked around myself, seeing I was laying inside a sort of bathtub. It angled me so I was laying against a sack or red pillow, and kept my head above the water.

I looked down at myself, the clothes I had worn about half a year ago facing up at me. Just a simple, light blue sun dress. It made me almost ill to think that's all I had been wearing for the past several months. My stomach wasn't it's normal flatness, as it had been throughout the time in Union. It was rounded, sticking up out of the red water. Seeing the difference was chilling, like becoming someone else entirely in a split second.

But... It wasn't as far along as I had expected it to be. If it's been at least six months, plus the two I had endured after... He went missing, I would have expected it to look closer to an 8 or 9 month belly. Did my time in Union stunt my baby's growth? Was it my connection to this machine?

When I was able to breathe through my nose, I slid myself out of the dirty water. I slid to the ground as I tried to be careful with myself. I trembled, feeling an aching between my legs. I felt the same soreness I had when walking around Union after I had the wind knocked out of me. I felt the same tiredness that wrought the rest of my body even after I had slept for hours.

I looked down, seeing the dress I had been wearing stained pure red around my hips. I gasped out, beginning to sob. Did I have a miscarriage?

I glanced over at the tub, seeing the bloody filaments cloud the liquid inside. I began sobbing, holding a hand to my stomach. No, please, not my baby. Not the only thing I have, not the last living piece of him left.

I felt a hand resting on my shoulder. I gasped, and turned over, trying to get away. I saw a woman standing over me, a black leather jacket covering her from. She had a gentle smile on her face, and she watched me carefully.

"Sebastian told me he brought someone out." She said, her purple-looking eyes piercing through me. "I'm Juli Kidman. I'm glad you made it out okay."

"I'm-I'm not o-okay..." I sobbed. "I... I don't have... I was..."

"Shh, don't cry." She leaned down and got on her knees. "It's okay. You were pregnant before coming here, right?"

"Y-yes. My baby... I didn't know until after I..."

"Can you walk?"

She stood, pulling me up by my hand. I took a few steps, placing a hand to my stomach, aching to feel the heartbeat I had in a dream.

"You didn't lose the baby." she said quietly.

I glanced up, seeing Sebastian, holding Lily. The now awake and older-looking child was wearing a pink shirt and blue jeans. Sebastian's face wasn't covered in blood or dirt, but the rest of him looked about the same - minus the ensemble of guns and deadly weapons on his back.

I held onto my head, still feeling the aftermath of waking from what felt like a coma affecting me. "Then... What... Happened to them?"

Juli smiled a little more, a little weakly. "Your vitals spiked while you were connected to the machine. After a bit, you went into labor. On top of everything that was happening with STEM, your body went into meltdown."

She turned, guiding me by my hand down several hallways, still speaking. I tried to ignore several groups of bodies laying on the ground. Some looked to have gunshots in their heads and throughout their bodies. I tried not to think about what had happened to these people, to what had happened when they died. It didn't look pleasant, most looking like they had reached for their heads or faces in their death.

"Thankfully, the medical team became distracted before they could prepare to kill Sebastian. Because of your medical emergency, you ended up saving us a larger time crunch."

She stopped in front of a room, and I stopped too. She let go of my hand, turning to look at me.

"He was a little underweight, and seemed a little premature... But he survived. They managed to help you give birth while you were still connected to STEM. Since you still had brain activity, they kept the baby here, on life support, and cared for it in case you woke up. It's been less than 24 hours since he was born, and from what I last heard he was healthy and becoming stronger each day."

Juli stepped back, leaving me facing the door.

"If you need me, just shout. These hallways echo much more than you would think. There are some forms filled out in there from when he was born, but he still doesn't have a name. I hope you two are happy."

I nodded. "Th-thank you... Thank you..."

"You don't need to thank me, miss Olian. Just be a good mother. Raise him right."

I watched her disappear around the corner. Her last sentence reverberated around in my head. I swallowed down a lump in my throat. I tried not to think what he would look like, worried he would remind me too much of his father.

I wondered if I had felt it. I wondered if my encounter with Theodore Wallace is what caused me to go into labor. If when my breath was knocked from me is what triggered my body to go into panic mode.

I turned back to the door. It's a he. I had given birth to a baby boy.

What would I tell him about his father when he begins to grow up? How will I even support him? I was a broke college student living alone, never held a job before college, and I don't even have a real resumé that I can use in the real world. My first "real" job had been as a florist and painter on the side in Union, in a world meant to be perfect for everyone in it

I swallowed the lump again. I tried to calm myself, barely managing to move my body. I lifted a hand, and grabbed the door handle. At first with a tug, it wouldn't come open. That didn't help my anxiety.

I tugged it again, and with some relief it swung open.

Once I had it open, I heard something that chilled my bones. Someone was... Singing. I felt panic, remembering the nightmare I had encountered with the mirror appartment, the mirror Ryan.

But, no, the voice sounded different. It wasn't singing in the "la, la, la" that the creature had been singing, but I wasn't certain it wasn't nonsense. I thought it was familiar, but I couldn't be sure. Had I heard this voice singing before?

"-- _darò alla Befana_ ," I could hear the voice singing. " _Che lo tiene una settimana..._ "

I stepped into the room, seeing a tall man standing with his back to me. The small room had a baby life support machine hooked up to the wall, open and empty from what I could see. The lights were dimmed, but I could make out that the man was wearing a white dress shirt and black suit pants. His arms were raised in front of him, and his head was turned down, moving back and forth.

I swallowed a shout. _He has my baby..._ was all I could think.

" _Lo darò all’Uomo Nero,_ " he continued his song. It seemed the man hadn't noticed me yet. " _Che lo tiene un anno intero, Lo darò all’Uomo Bianco, Che le tiene finché è stanco..._ "

I took in other details, such as four men laying in the room. All of them had gunshots in their heads, and I realized these people hadn't died along with the rest of the people working here. They must have died several hours earlier; they looked more stiff and pale than the ones had passed in the hallway. I glanced around the room, trying to find something, anything, to stand up against him with.

" _Lo darò al Saggio Folletto, Che lo renda Uomo perfetto!_ "

The room fell silent, and I realized his song had finished. He was still moving side to side, seemingly rocking the child in his arms.

A gun with a silencer on it was sitting on a table next to me, the small black pistol catching my eye. As quietly as I could, I reached over and picked it up. I looked it over briefly, trying to see if I knew how to use it. I knew it was more than point and shoot, but I wasn't sure other than that.

Hopefully, just having it in hand would be able to scare him away.

Of course, of all things to happen, someone had to try and take my baby. Well, I suppose I don't have any evidence they're trying to steal my baby, but I still don't want them handling my child.

He started humming again, and it made me hesitate. I realized I recognized the tune after a moment, it sounded like a classical song that had been ingrained in me. I couldn't quite remember where I had heard it, sure it had to have been played at least a hundred times for me to recognize like this.

I shook my head, clearing it of the thoughts I was having. This man has my child, and I can't afford to let myself get distracted. I lifted the gun, trying to train it on their head, ignoring the slight tremble in my hand.

"Put the child back in the machine, right now." I said as firmly as I could. "Put them back down, safely, and get away from him right now."

The man didn't answer, tensing up as my voice interrupted him. He didn't move, though, freezing as still as a statue as I spoke.

"Put. The Child. Back in the life support machine." I said, trying to make myself sound aggressive and angry. "He... He's my son, and I will not hesitate to shoot you."

His head lifted slightly, and I saw it turn just slightly at me. "I recommend putting down the gun, unless you want to hurt both our child and me. He's my son, too."

He turned around slowly, and I saw the telltale bangs that hid one eye, now disheveled and ragged, and a familiar face smiling at me. I could almost feel my heart stop as I looked at him. The gun lowered in my grasp, and I stared, feeling my body beginning to tremble

"S... Stefano...?"

He closed his eye and chuckled a bit. "Yes, my Rose. It is me, I am here."

The gun slipped from my hand and landed harshly on the floor. Stefano flinched at the sound, initially stepping away. When there wasn't another sound, he smiled again, and gestured for me to come closer.

I jerked forward, feeling vertigo and confusion. I reached for him, grabbing onto his waist and pulling myself to him.

"Gentle, _bella_ , gentle. There is something wonderfully fragile in my arms."

I nodded as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling an arm unwrap from the baby and gently held me back. I looked up at him first, staring at my Stefano's face. He smiled at me, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against my head again.

I looked down at the small bundle in Stefano's arms. I swallowed, seeing a pink face peaking out at me in an off-white bundled cloth. His eyes were wide and open. They looked bright and a faded green-grey, just like his father. He looked at me, blinking at me, and smiled just slightly. I smiled back, lifting a hand away from Stefano and reaching a finger to him. He took my finger, gently putting it to his mouth and sucking on it.

"He's so... Precious..." I muttered.

"Yes. Yes, he is..." Stefano leaned down, pressing his face in my hair.

He lifted his hand, dragging it through my hair. I took the baby in my arms, feeling his weight for the first time. Looking at him in my arms, so fragile, so delicate.

"I thought you were gone, my love..."

I looked up at him again. His eye was studying me. He looked... Oddly remorseful, eyebrow lifted as a sad look crossed his face as well. I'd never seen a look like that on his face.

"When I read the documents, I thought you had passed away when he was born." He rubbed a hand on his neck, looking away from me. "I thought you had passed because they wanted to disconnect you from the system, from what I now know was a computer. They would take away a child from his mother without noticing whether or not she survived..."

I smiled gently at him. "Well, we're here now."

"Yes, you are."

I leaned my head against him as he massaged his shoulders. I wondered how long he had been holding our child. _Our_ child. I smiled even more, looking back down and seeing him looking at both of us.

"How did you survive?" I asked.

"... I'm not quite sure. Once I was sure you were there with me, I remember..." He sighed, pressing himself against me. "Not much. I remember the Core appearing before me. I remember her crying as she watched me, like she was sad I was dying. Once she turned and disappeared, I felt something different. I saw light from behind my eyelids, and I woke in one of those baths."

I felt him shake his head, pressing a hand into my hair and brushing it through the strands delicately. His arm wrapped around my waist, gently locking me to him just over my stomach.

"I didn't think I survived. I thought that was just hell, or the afterlife, whichever it was I was in. It took me a long time to realize I wasn't dead."

He paused for a moment, and I felt the arm tense around my stomach. I hummed quietly, letting him recollect his thoughts.

"To be fair, I wasn't certain which to believe, that I had been in that tub for six to eight months, and that Union had all been a fever dream within a nightmare of a child within a computer program... Or that I was dead and I had to watch your body for several hours from the shadows as I listened to you screaming while giving birth in your sleep."

"You were there?"

"Hidden." He sighed. "But there. Your screaming is what drew them to you, I think."

I remembered the mental anguish, as though I could have heard my own screaming if I hadn't bit my tongue and lips as hard as I did.

"It drew me to your side at first, but I had to hide once they came. They noticed I had disconnected, some sort of alarm going off for a while. They were looking for me, but only said a number to each other instead of a name. I knew they would kill me, if I had been caught. Once everything calmed down, I watched them leave you."

"Did you..." I hesitantly asked. "Did you grab my hand? Or hold my hand after that?"

He sighed, lowering his hand from my head. "Yes, I did. I spoke to you, trying to promise you that I would stay with our child until you woke up. Until I knew you had survived..."

He shook his head slightly, and let go of me. I turned around as he backed away, eye closed, and looking away from me.

"My bloody Rose..." he muttered, a slight smile crossing his face. "So poetic, no? Because of the flowers I use in my art, because of the woman I love. But also because the most blood I've ever seen her in is when she gave birth to a new life, a new beautiful creation brought into the world."

I giggled. I stepped closer to him, but he stepped back. He wouldn't meet my gaze now, refusing to look at me. I cocked my head slightly, trying to catch his eye and make him look at me again.

"Stefano...? Why are you...?"

He turned away, towards the door behind me. "Well... To be fair, I'm not certain how to say goodbye properly."

"'Goodbye'?"

His eye flickered over me. "You were so happy to tell me you were pregnant. You didn't want to tell me unless you had to. I can only assume you did not..."

I frowned as he turned to walk away. I reached out instantly as he began to try and exit through the door. He tried to pull his hand out of my grasp, but I held on tightly to him.

"You don't get to be a drama queen and leave me with a newborn baby that easily." I said, my voice tensing.

His brow arched as it raised on his face. "Even after all I've done to you? After what you saw me become?"

I shook my head, yanking him violently back into the room. He followed, and I reached up for him. I put my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. In his surprise, he didn't fight back. I closed my eyes and kissed his cheek.

"I just saw a woman say her last farewell to her husband just after they had met up after what seemed to be years apart. I watched her say goodbye, a very, very similar goodbye you had given me before deciding to try and kill yourself at the hands of someone else. I watched her apologize and say goodbye to her husband knowing she was about to die, and was never able to say goodbye to her child because she was asleep."

I took a breath, looking into Stefano's eye as he watched me.

"I'm not gonna watch another family be torn apart just because of your opinions of yourself. I'm also not gonna let you just bail on your son and leave him without a father. I didn't want to hide the fact I was pregnant from you, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't get through to you when you were in that brainwashed state. You will stay your sorry butt right here with me, you dumbass."

His eye widened, completely taken aback from what I said. After a while, a smile branched across his face. He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, being aware of the bundle of joy in my arms.

"I missed you, my muse." he whispered as he pulled away.

My eyes fluttered open, taking in his face as he watched me. "I missed you more than you could know."

He pressed his lips against my forehead. "Good. I'll stay. I'll be here for you both."

"You fuckin better." I muttered as I tucked my head into his collarbone.

"What do you want to call him?"

I glanced up, seeing him looking down at our child again. He looked so hopeful, as though I could see his eyes nearly being overtaken by tears. I smiled, leaning my head against my love once more.

"I honestly thought I would give birth to a girl. Everyone in my family seems to have girls, and I come from a long, five-generation line of women."

"Ah, so you only have thought of girls' names." He chuckled, and the familiar vibration made me smile as he held me. "Do you mind if I interject my idea?"

"Feel free."

He gestured to some of the papers on the table. "Because I thought you would not come back, I signed his birth certificate. It's in graphite, so we can erase it."

I giggled, then laughed aloud. "You signed the certificate in pencil?"

"In hopes you would come and correct me." He sighed, waving his hand dramatically, his smile not fading anymore. "But I named him Giuseppe."

"Ji... Zep...?"

"Giuseppe." he corrected me with a laugh. "It's an Italian name, my dear. I always wanted to use it for my child, if I were to have a son."

I smiled, tucking my head against his shoulder. "Well, it's rather late to say it, but welcome to the world, Giuseppe."

I felt his smile spread on my head as he leaned down, pressing his lips against me.

"I love you, Rose... I love you, and I want to make up what I've done."

"I'll be patient." I smiled, allowing myself to feel safe once again. "I love you, and I want to stand with you while you grow."

" _Ti amo, bella mia..._ " He whispered. "I always, always will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is where most people would say the story is over. I'm wondering what your thoughts are, and I'm wondering if you would want more! Let me know your thoughts, and let me know if you're happy with how the story has come so far!


	32. Epilogue Ch1: Confrontation

"Would you want to move in with me, then?"

I glanced over at Stefano as he spoke. His left arm was wrapped around my shoulders as we walked through the nearly empty hallways. It was eerie to walk with him like this, now in the real world and seeing so many dead and bloodied bodies still laying along the ground.

"Well, I suppose so." I nodded slightly. "I mean, you already seem attached to our child, so I wouldn't want to keep him from you."

He chuckled quietly, his face scrunching up as he began laughing out loud. It made me smile as he allowed himself to laugh fully for what seemed like the first time in a while. I watched him as he continued smiling, wiping at his eye after some time. He pulled me closer to him as we kept walking, a sweet gesture making me feel warm as he held me.

"Thank you for the consideration, my lovely muse. I would certainly prefer if the both of you continued living with me."

I sighed slightly. "Well, currently, I don't think I even have a place to live. It was close to the end of the semester, I think, when I went to that therapist. I don't know how long it's been in the real world, but I'm sure it's been such a long time..."

"Does the timing matter?"

"Well, given that I lived in an apartment, it unfortunately does. Since it was a month-to-month rent... I think I might be homeless, if I were to try to go back." I tried to laugh it off at first, but the anxiety began growing in the pit of my stomach at that thought.

"What about your possessions? Your belongings?"

"Oh, landlords don't care about that. I'm sure everything I had was pawned or given away..."

I shuddered, holding little Giuseppe closer to my chest. After Stefano and I had spoken for a while in the room I'd found them, our baby had begun crying. It surprised me, and made me smile a little that he was strong enough to cry out so loud. Stefano mentioned how he hadn't fed him since he didn't know where the baby food was, instantly becoming worried that he had hurt his own child. I was able to pull down my dress straps a little, pulling him closer to my chest to breastfeed. In my relief, he latched on almost immediately and began nursing. We couldn't help but watch him as he made little cooing noises as he nursed, calming down as some milk dripped down his chin.

"Why on earth..." Stefano shook his head, looking angered. "Those items are not theirs, they cannot just give away someone's things."

"Well, unless the police took my disappearance seriously, I'm afraid it's not really up to us."

He quietly _humph_ ed, and silence engulfed our surroundings. The clicking of our shoes, after having found some that fit us, echoed around the hallways.

"What about you? About your house?" I asked after some time passed.

Stefano stayed silent, and I saw his eye tighten ever so slightly, his eyebrow twitching down over his face.

"I've lived in that house for years. I payed off my mortgage a few years after I came back... Well, came back from my service in the military."

"You were in the military?"

He turned and looked down at me for a moment. "Did I never tell you that?"

I giggled, leaning my head into his shoulder. "No, you didn't. But that's okay, I don't need to know absolutely everything about you."

He chuckled quietly. We resumed our walk, finding our way out of the main hallway.

We entered a large open room that looked like the rest of the building. I saw two familiar figures, one of them holding a child on their hip. Their voices carried slightly towards us, but I couldn't make out what they were talking about. Once they came into our line of sight, Stefano froze in his tracks. I looked over at him, seeing his face slightly pale.

He cleared his throat and spoke quietly to me. "I'm still getting used to not having my power..."

I turned my head against him. "Do you want to turn around and find a new way out?"

"Hey!" I heard the man yell out at us.

"Too late..." he mumbled, turning to walk away back down the hall.

I watched Sebastian Castellanos set Lily down with Juli, quickly trying to take off after Stefano. He began sprinting, legs still appearing to be stiff after his time in Union.

"Sebastian, stop!" I said, jumping in front of the door, holding out one arm as I held my baby in my arms.

He did stop, but he looked at me with a scowl. "Why the hell do you want me to stop?! That man you were with is a murderer!"

"What's going on?" Juli walked up to us quickly.

I glanced over her, seeing she had a gun on her hip. I bit my lip, trying to pretend I didn't see it.

"I don't know how the hell he did it, I don't know how he's fucking here, but that's Stefano."

"The man who took Lily?"

"Yeah." He looked at me with daggers in his eyes. "Why are you trying to stop us from stopping him?!"

I swallowed, looking for an answer to his question. "You... You see, he's..."

"Oh my god, please don't tell me you made me bring him out with you." He groaned loudly.

A small amount of movement caught my eye. I looked down, seeing Lily walking to her dad. When she reached us, she grabbed onto his shirt, tugging slightly.

"Dad?" she asked politely, waiting for him to respond.

"Not now, baby." Sebastian said as he turned to her, trying to alleviate the tense anger in his voice. "The grown-ups need to talk."

"I know. But that's the nice lady that looked after me."

"You told me, remember?"

"What happened to the rest of you, miss?"

Her question was directed at me. Now she was fully awake and aware, I payed attention to what she said and her body language.

"The rest of me?"

"Yes, you had an extra leg, right?"

I swallowed, trying to shake off her statement. "Well, no, not exactly. I wasn't... Er, I only have two legs."

"Yeah, but when we first met, you had three. And they were very big."

I risked a glance up at Sebastian. He was staring at me, eyes widened, and face screwed into a very confused look.

I got down on my knee, to her level, but still standing in the doorway to try and keep the two still standing over me. I decided I shouldn't even bother to lie to her, she remembered me at least. "Yes, I suppose I did."

"Why didn't you wear any clothing?"

I laughed a little bit. "I was too big, remember?"

She nodded slightly. "You were scary."

I lifted a hand, brushing her hair slightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just meant to take care of you."

She smiled slightly. Then, of all things, she hugged me. I was taken aback, still holding Giuseppe in my arms, feeling my eyes widen. I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders, hugging her back. I laughed a little bit, trying to ignore that she just described the Obscura I had been turned into while in the crumbling Union.

"You... Had three legs..." Sebastian muttered lowly in my direction. "And no clothes, looking over my daughter?"

I sighed, pulling out of Lily's hug, watching her walk back over to her father. "Yes."

"Did you, by chance, happen to have a camera and light bulb attached to your head?"

"Well, yeah."

I raised my free hand, feeling my voice raise in pitch.

"Hello... That's me. I was Obscura..."

Sebastian sprung back, stumbling over his feet and falling to the ground. I winced as his back slammed against the ground, and his head hit the floor with a small thump.

"What the fuck?! How the hell are you here?!"

I shook my head. "Lord if I know. And you might want to watch your language, your little girl is still by your side."

Lily hunched down with a kind smile to her father. "Remember her, dad? She was watching me when you found me! But she didn't look like herself when she first watched over me."

"Yeah, I remember her. I didn't expect to see her before she was that thing."

"To be fair, I didn't necessarily have a choice..." I cleared my throat.

"Yeah, I figured. Were you conscious when you tried to kill me?"

"She tried to kill you?" Juli jumped in. I realized she must have been completely in the dark in this conversation.

"Uhm, well..." I brushed my hand through my hair, feeling all the tangles and grease in it. It felt slightly longer than I remember it last being. "Stefano... Lost his mind while in Union. He completely fell apart and lost sight of what he was passionate about... When he needed something he needed to control, he decided to use me... Well, to try and hurt Sebastian."

"Don't use my first name." His face was taught as it was in a frown. He stood up, beginning to brush himself off as an excuse not to look at me. "You were working with that murderer this entire time."

"Well, no. Not exactly. When Union collapsed, I lost all my memories. I was nearly killed the first day. I did get them back, eventually. I had been... Well, involved with Stefano before all of this..."

I tucked my child closer to my chest, who was now sleeping so peacefully in my arms.

"Wait. Involved, as in--..." He cut himself off, glancing down at Lily just slightly. "Is that your child... With _him?!_ "

I bit back on my lip. Then I nodded. "Yes. Yes, Stefano is the father of my child."

" _Oh my god..._ " He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to contain himself.

This time, it was Juli's turn to look surprised, though she didn't react as violently. "Today keeps getting even more strange."

I swallowed a little, now nervous. I held Giuseppe tighter to my chest.

"How did he escape?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. He made it out before me."

"Did he say anything about it? How the hell is this even possible, I fucking killed him!"

I watched Lily reach up to him, tugging on his shirt again.

"Yes, Lily?"

"I let him out, I think. The man in my nightmare, with the scary eye... He wasn't sleeping, so I tried to wake him up."

"Why did you try to help him?" he said, looking like he was about to pass out, as though his worst nightmares had just come to life and spoken to him.

"He was sad. It was just before you fell asleep with that other man, and woke up with the girl who could help you." She kept looking up at him with her big, innocent eyes. "The man in my nightmare was hurting, and he was begging for one thing. I remember just wanting to help him, he was so sad he couldn't talk without hurting. Then he left my nightmare."

Sebastian breathed deeply for a moment, and I couldn't help but assume he was fighting himself with whether or not he should explain her trying to help didn't help him.

"Well, he's grateful you helped him." I said, getting back down on my knee to her height. "We both are."

"He said he wanted you to be safe..." she said quietly, rocking on her heels. "He wanted to see his baby, so I thought it would be nice, make him be nice, if he were able to look at his baby."

Silence ensued, and I watched her rocking slightly on her feet, moving back and forth as only a child does while trying to be patient. I glanced up at Juli and Sebastian, watching them staring at the both of us.

"Can I look at your baby?"

"Yes." I smiled, and put my other knee down. "But you must be careful. He's brand new, so he can be hurt very easily. Even I could hurt him if we're not careful."

I leaned over, watching her as she sat down on the floor. I placed the newborn in her arms, watching her smile at the ever so small baby. She seemed so kind and gentle with him, seeming to just be a kind and gentle person herself.

"So, what are we going to do?" Juli said. "I don't think we can just kill him."

"Given the amount of people who are dead here, I don't think anyone who would really care."

"Are you sure? I mean, he did just leave her, so I can't imagine..."

"You do know, I can still hear you." I said aloud, glancing up at them. "I don't know who you two are, but please don't get involved with us."

"You made yourself involved when you tried to kill me."

I bit my tongue, knowing there would be no debate or argue with this man. I fought back a snide remark, or any attempt to explain I didn't want to try to hurt him.

"Sebastian, I'm not sure it's worth it, trying to fight him again." Juli tried to say to him. "We need to get out of here soon, or we not might make it out alive at all."

"He doesn't have the same powers here, so it shouldn't be such a difficult thing to just go find him and get it over with."

"Would you take a father away from his child?" I said loudly. "Would you really be able to live with yourself, if you killed a man who was trying to live a new life with his spouse and newborn child? After what you've just been through?"

"You don't even have a say in this, ma'am. What he's done doesn't even compare to being like me."

I shook my head at the false politeness. "Fine, say what you like. But if you kill him, I'm going to raise my son to hunt you down and imitate his father."

I stood up, looking him in the eye.

"Just so you know, he didn't fight you because he wanted to." I said as low as I could manage. "He did it so he wouldn't come back. He spoke to me before he fought you. He wanted to make up for what he had done, but whatever happened to him in there forced him to be someone he wasn't. Like I said, he went mad in Union, and couldn't hold his own mind together for longer than a few minutes."

I shook my head slightly, trying to forget what had happened to me in there. I looked away from the two people staring at me. I looked at Lily, still holding

"He went through similar nightmares to everyone. Maybe even worse, after how I saw him act. I can't vouch for that, but... I know, if given the choice, he wouldn't have done a lot of the things he did in that insane town."

Sebastian grumbled as he stayed where he was, looking like he was trying to think about what I had said.

"Do you think he's really become a better person?" Juli asked me.

"Maybe not a better person..." an accented voice said behind me.

I jumped as I felt a hand rest on my left shoulder. I glanced down, seeing it wrap around my back, making me look to my right. It was Stefano, looking at them with an angry expression, skin around his visible eye tightening.

"But better with my girlfriend and my child."

"So, you really were here." Juli said, staring at him for a moment. "I didn't see you when Sebastian began losing his mind."

"Am I the only one seeing this as a bad thing?!" Sebastian eventually yelled.

"Perhaps it is." was all Stefano replied.

The echoing room fell into silence after that. Lily was still rocking and cooing at the small child in her arms, Giuseppe now awake and smiling a little bit at her. I watched as she gently played with him, letting him hold onto her finger.

"How did you two even meet?" Juli finally said.

Stefano laughed. "I was attempting to set up a gallery at her college. It went well, but unfortunately... We weren't able to pursue each other much longer after that."

"Wait, the community college?"

"Yes, why?" He turned to Sebastian who had interrupted him.

"Were you there when that man attacked a student? I heard he had snuck onto the campus completely intoxicated and tried to assault a student there. A Samaritan found him and saved the girl, I believe."

Stefano and I looked at each other. "Yes, unfortunately... We were on campus for that." Stefano looked back at him. "I called the police that night. The... 'man' had tried to kill my poor Rose."

Sebastian's eyebrow raised, a completely confused expression filling his face. "You... Called the police."

"If they released the calls I made, then I would have proof, yes. Once I had subdued the monster that tried to kill her, tried to... Harm her... I called the campus police, or rather had someone call them for me. Then I called the city police, given he seemed to be completely intoxicated."

Sebastian put a hand over his face, trying to process that. He seemed to have a hard time computing that the man who had tried to kill him earlier, or just fought him earlier and killed others, had saved the life of a college student. He grumbled to himself quietly, muttering something under his breath.

Eventually Lily looked up at me. "What's the baby's name, miss Rose?"

I smiled down at her. "Giuseppe."

She smiled, giggling. "I haven't heard that name before!"

Stefano chuckled a little. "It's Italian. I think the closest English equivalent is 'Joseph.'"

Sebastian's hand slipped from his face, staring at the both of us. "You named your son... Joseph...?"

Juli, turned around, a loud snicker resounding in the wide room.

"Yes, why?" Stefano sounded annoyed. "And it isn't Joseph, I just said it was similar in the name. Like the biblical name, it is the equivalent to the English name."

Sebastian's hand covered his face, a loud _clap_ sound as it hit his skin, muttering "Of all the things..."

Juli, now calmed down from her silent laughter, turned back to us with a slight smile. "Joseph is the name of Sebastian's former partner."

"Oh, I thought he was married to a woman."

Juli cracked another smile. Sebastian's hand fell from his eyes and he just glared at Stefano, who just chuckled a little to himself. His expression read more murder and hatred than I had seen before. I thought it was an impressive feat.

"I... Am... I was a police officer some years ago."

I felt Stefano tense slightly against me.

"I left the force a long time ago. Joseph..." He glanced over at Juli, hesitating.

"Joseph went missing. We still have yet to talk about what happened." was all she said as she finished his thought.

"Oh, I see." I lifted a hand to the one still tensed on my shoulder, intertwining our fingers to try and calm him. "I hope you three have luck in finding him. Was he in Union?"

"No." she replied. "But I have an idea where to find him. Don't worry, we'll find him."

"So, do we just leave them here?"

"You might as well. You won't hear from us again if you just leave us here today." Stefano cut in, all humor and jest having left his voice. "You won't have to deal with us in the future."

They stared at him, and I felt him breathing shallowly. He seemed to want to be done with all this as soon as he could be, holding tightly to my hand. I hoped he would find comfort that I was still here. A few minutes passed, as all four of us just stood there, silently appraising each other.

"Lily, come on." Sebastian said after some time. "We should go home now."

"... Okay..." she said quietly.

I got down on my knees again, reaching for my child as she put him back in my hands. I smiled at her sweetly, and she looked at Giuseppe as I took him back.

"Can we see them again?" she asked, an excited look crossing her face as she turned back to her father. "I like Rose, and I like Giuseppe."

Sebastian froze, looking completely mortified. "Maybe, sweety. We'll see."

"Yay!" She jumped a little bit, seemingly giddy at the idea.

"Well, you better keep your name out of the papers." said Sebastian, tone now turning harsh. "If I start seeing the same type of murders appear in the papers again, I'm sending your information straight to the force."

"Trust me, you won't." Stefano said, voice also tight and angered.

Without another word, Sebastian picked up Lily, and all three of them turned and walked away. We stood there, watching them go. Stefano didn't let go of me, holding onto me tightly as they exited the building.

After some minutes had passed, he let out a shaky breath. "That seemed more dangerous than it probably was."

I turned and looked at him. "You did good, sweetheart. But I do agree, that was dangerous. You should be a little more careful, hun."

He chuckled, leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. "For your sake, and Giuseppe's sake, I'll behave. I'll do my best to be a good father, a good spouse. If we interact with those people again, I'll sure attempt to make a nuisance of myself, though."

I laughed, and kissed him again, feeling him press his hand against the small baby in my arms. "I expect nothing else, my love."

"Good."


	33. Doodle

* * *

I hope this works. I had this sketch in the works for a while. I just added Giuseppe, since he seemed to tie the image together. Unfortunately, Rose's face didn't turn out so well, it seems to have shifted. It's more of a doodle, but still fun. Hope you like the "Lazy Sunday" type vibe I was trying to portray.


	34. Another Doodle

* * *

I just can't get enough of these two. I love the idea of Stefano being a protective and loving father.

In-universe (if fanfiction can have a universe) this would definitely have been a photo taken by Rose. Since she's taken a photography class, she would definitely take a single exposure on his camera for him to discover later.

I hope you like this one. I'll see if I can turn my attention to writing some more chapters again soon... I'm having a lot of fun imagining some scenarios, perhaps overindulging on this family. Ahahaha.


	35. Epilogue Ch2: Nightmares

_-Stefano's P.O.V.-_

I stepped forward, allowing myself to smile. The dark room around me held only a single spotlight focused on the ground in front of me.

I saw my dear muse, standing alone in the middle of the floor. She was elegantly dressed in a long, white, sleeveless dress. A single light trained on her. I couldn't help but focus on her as I walked forward. I continued my way for her, watching her as she hadn't noticed me yet. She stood, looking forward with her back to me, motionless and silent.

I carefully walked forward, trying not to startle her. My smile continued to widen as I reached for her.

I walked around her, seeing her form still frozen. She had her arms in front of her, placed against her chest. They lay on top of each other, hovering delicately over her heart.

A splashing sound caught my attention. I looked down, seeing a dark pool forming from her feet. Her black heels were untouched, but a dark red liquid seemed to be flowing from them. I stared, the rim of the white dress catching against her skin as it hovered just above her ankles. It seemed to flow around her, as though caught in a slight breeze or was held underwater.

"Rose..." I whispered. "You can move, my love."

She didn't respond, standing motionless. Her face was like that of a doll. An empty expression filling her lovely face. Eyes unblinking, the flutter of her throat as she breathed absent.

My eye traced down her figure, catching on a blossom of red beneath her hands. I focused on it, seeing a large red stain tarnishing her dress. I watched as it grew from under her hands, spreading down across her torso.

 _Is... she_ _bleeding...?_

Almost as though I had willed it, a river of blood sprung from her chest. I backed away, raising my hands at first. When none hit me, I lowered my hands and watched her. The blood had frozen in mid air, forming a rose just above her fingers. It hovered, intricately detailed as it hung in the air.

I watched as the rose dipped and reshaped slowly, turning into a human heart instead.

I reached out for her, wanting to ask her what is wrong. As soon as I grabbed her shoulder, she crumpled to the ground. I stared at her, her skin ever paler and draining further. There was no longer a hole in her chest, but rather one from her stomach. It was wildly torn open, ruining her gown and skin.

Her eyes, wide open in shock now, still didn't move. I watched her blood seep from her body, and I was completely powerless to stop the bleeding.

I backed away. There was no way this could be real. It couldn't be, not the way it was happening.

I could hear screaming reverberating around me. Two voices. My muse was screaming. Like the day I hurt her. The day I changed her.

My lower back hit something solid, making me stumble from my position. I fell to the floor, stumbling as I did so. I fell into the dark, shallow pool of her blood, feeling its warmth seep into my skin. I shuddered, the metallic and rusty scent overwhelming my senses.

I looked at what I had fallen over. It was a small white podium. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized it. I had seen it somewhere. I had put it there.

I stood up carefully, ignoring the cooling, thick blood running down the side of my leg. I looked over the podium, seeing a bronze plate, stamped with words.

I had to squint to make out what it said in the low lighting, as though it was flickering between different phrases or even languages.

With enough effort, I could just barely make it out. I thought I could read it as "Agony" or "Rose" even though I couldn't quite tell.

I looked over the body laying before me. The blood as it drained from her. The body I could never love. The woman who died to have my child. He was torn from her, screaming as he was born, and she was gone.

I walked over to the body again. I knelt down, grabbing her by the shoulders. I lifted her into my arms, sitting in the warmth her body used to contain. I lay her across my lap, trying to give her a fleeting moment of care. I slid a hand across her forehead, leaving a streak of crimson across her paling skin.

After a moment, her eyes fluttered ever so gently. They flickered into focus, glancing over me.

"Stefano..." I thought I could hear her mutter.

Her hand reached up, grasping onto mine, pulling my wrist away from her face. Her grip tightened against my skin, becoming painful as she continued to squeeze it.

I winced, feeling her pulling me down. I glanced over her, watching the blood beginning to cover her body, consuming her dress and skin before me. It raised up over her head, making it disappear from my sight. I felt a sense of panic coming over me, dread and pain seeping into my bones. As though a thousand bullets had met their mark and buried themselves into my flesh.

 _"Bella!!"_ I shouted.

I saw my entire body was sinking lower into the shallow pool. My lower legs were already consumed, and as I struggled, my waist sunk beneath the dark red too. I grasped for anything, reaching out and trying to grab ahold of something.

The dark blood had made it's way up my torso, and I thought I couldn't feel my legs anymore. The more I moved, struggled, and tried to pull myself away, the lower I sank.

All things to grab hold of had disappeared. The blood had spread too far, had eaten too much of the world. The podium slipped below the surface as I reached for it. I saw it crumbling as it dipped beneath the dark pooling substance.

I began shouting in pain, feeling bullets piercing my skin as I continued to fight. It broke the skin, and I could feel my own blood contributing to the dark pool of water. I couldn't move my arms as they became trapped beneath the surface. I kept trying to move, trying to escape despite my only means having disappeared so long ago.

I called out her name. I tried to yell, not hearing my own voice. The hot and shrapnel-riddled blood filled my mouth, silencing me as I tried to call out. I tried to spit it out, feeling it worm its way through me. It began suffocating me as I felt the thick substance pull me under. I choked, begging for air, begging for it to leave my system. I kept trying, feeling it cover my head, filling each pore left in my body.

My eye opened. I felt my body trembling, hot sweat dripping down my body. I gasped for a moment, letting my mouth hang open.

I sat up, raising my knees slightly. I saw the sheets of my bed move with me, raising as I lifted myself up. I felt air fill my lungs as I felt I still wasn't breathing.

I gave a shuddering sigh. It had only been a bad dream. Only a nightmare.

I hazarded a look to my left. There was a body under the sheets, tucked up snug on the other side of the bed.

Why does she always look so peaceful while she sleeps? She's been through hell with me, yet she sleeps so soundly.

I reached a hand towards her, wanting to feel her rosy and soft skin under my fingertips. Then I hesitated, withdrawing my hand. I swallowed, just letting myself watch her breathe. Watching her as she lived, unaware and uncaring to the cruel world. Watching her just exist. Something that I couldn't believe I was able to do a little over a year ago. Something I'm sure she couldn't believe she could do either.

I eventually turned away, rubbing at my tired eye and slipping out of bed. I stood up, feeling the softened carpet meeting my feet. I dug my toes into the flooring, just trying to anchor myself to reality.

I grabbed my bathrobe, slipping it on just to wear something against the cold morning. I walked out of my bedroom, walking into the wide studio of my home. I shuddered, feeling my feet meeting the cold hard-wood flooring, feeling it branch up my legs as I walked. I looked over at the crib, pressed up against the wall against my room.

 _Our_ room, I suppose, really. Rose has been living here with me for so long now. A few months at least. I'm still so used to calling it my room, my home. But now she's living here with me, having to start over from scratch. I made my way over to the crib.

Giuseppe lay there, asleep. His arm extended just by his head, laying on his back. I watched him, remembering how small he was when I first saw him. Tucked away in a darkened room, in a glass box, connected to a breathing machine and a heater. A life support machine, really, but I didn't register that. He looked like he was being experimented on, in my mind. Looking like he was just a creature in a petri dish, something just to observe and not care for.

It's so odd how quickly I changed my mind. When I learned she was pregnant, when I learned she had my child, my own flesh and blood growing inside of her...

I swallowed, reaching down and brushing my fingertips against his sleeping face. My muse and my child, sleeping in my home.

Rose wasn't someone I expected to get under my skin. While I was busy trying to turn her into a sculpture, she was busy finding her way into my chest and making a life there. Almost literally.

I lifted a hand to my chest, feeling my heartbeat under my skin. I was sure it wasn't beating before I met her, only understanding the feel of it after I learned how I felt about her. How I learned I love her.

I question that so much. Knowing how I act, how I feel about other people. How I don't enjoy people around me, ever. But... She's different. I care about her. I care about her, like she's an extension of myself. A part of my being that I actually care about.

I withdrew from Giuseppe's crib, trying to silently move away. He's almost a year old now, just about four months off. Even though he seemed premature, he's still been growing healthily. Once we were more settled down, we started taking him to the doctor regularly. We were able to pick up where we left off, doing our best to work around having been missing for six months. It was about the beginning of winter when he was born. Now we're in the middle of the summer, and he's grown so much in those eight months.

I sighed, gently closing the door to my studio behind me. It was almost an ideal life, really. I've lived here and owned this home for so many years, having bought it after I came back to America. I had left to avoid what I thought would be a disaster in my life, and now here I am. I didn't think I had a choice when I made the decision to go to war, and I certainly didn't have a choice when I was recovering in the hospital. When Emily came to see me, telling me she wasn't interested in being around me anymore, being homeless for really the first time in my life. Listening to her speak after she had made up her mind, insisting that she had found someone else after I left, telling me I wasn't myself.

Even if that was true, I was left without support. I was left alone, having come back to my family being dead. Coming back to the woman I was sure I was going to be with for the rest of my life abandoning me. Even if she wasn't properly abandoning me, I couldn't fight the feeling that she had been.

And now here I am. Living with a common-law wife, and living with our son in the house I bought with my army pension. She still had money left over from when she had disappeared, and only missed a few weeks of her classes in the last semester she had enrolled in. She had missed the following fall semester, and eventually was able to chew out the police department for not taking both her and my missing person's reports. I was able to get back the photos I had put up in the gallery she worked in, despite how much it felt like an entire life ago.

I accidentally set down the coffee mugs too harshly. The loud clang as the sound reverberated around the room made my brain stop my thoughts, knocking me out of my memories. I glanced over the counter, looking at the electric kettle as it began to boil. I sighed, glancing over at the time on the stove.

4:47 a.m. Of course I would wake up so early.

I've been waking up early and having a fitful sleeping cycle since we came home. I've been living with nightmares, living with my dreams of hurting my muse. Her screams bouncing around my mind, the screams of when I turned her into my creation. She screamed even after I had drugged her. When she awoke, she didn't seem to remember it. Whether because of the trauma, or because she didn't want to, she didn't remember it.

Now that I'm more in control of myself, I'm disgusted by how I acted. I never thought I could hate something I've done, something that I created. I didn't hate my muse, or my Obscura... But I hate the circumstances that lead to her creation. I couldn't think straight, and it took reliving the day I lost my eye with her inserted into the scenario to make me realize how callous I had been acting.

Part of me hates myself for what I did to her. Each time I look at her, I see what I did to her. Making her walk around nude, slowly going insane because of my control over her and the other voices that inhabited her body. I loved the way I had created her, changed her. But now... It pains me to remember what I did to her. I understand now, understand I really wasn't myself. I don't even know what happened, but it took all of her to break me out of that cycle.

I still don't know why that little girl let me go. I don't know why I'm standing here. I don't know why I woke up, why I completely lost myself, why I lost my grip on my mind and on the importance of my Rose.

I sighed quietly, pouring myself a cup of coffee from my french press. I watched the steam rise from the mug, watching it dance and fold over itself.

Still, my love has stayed with me. Once I knew she was safe, I expected her to tell me to leave. I expected her to tell me to leave her life, to never contact her again, and stay away from our child.

The look on her face when she told me to stay has shattered part of my heart. Watching her sternly tell me that I wasn't leaving as soon as she had a child to care for broke my heart. I hadn't expected it, the sensation of pain in my heart, or in my chest, as I watched her tell me she wanted me to be with her and Giuseppe.

I couldn't help myself as I kissed her after she said that. Watching her frame become overwhelmed, her speaking nonstop to tell me how she felt about it. Watching her passion about taking care of our son and making sure he has a healthy environment. Her passion and care for me, even after all I've done to her. It wasn't a healthy relationship from the start, and I suppose that is the unfortunate, shaky foundation that we built it from... I can only hope that the edifice stays standing for a long time.

"Hun, what are you doing?"

I looked over to the door leading to the studio. Rose was standing there, a hastily buttoned, oversized shirt draped over her torso. She was rubbing at her eyes to combat the light in the kitchen. I smiled to myself, watching her as she walked forward, and sipped at my coffee.

When she reached me, she slid her arms around me, hiding her face in my shoulder. I chuckled quietly as her head dipped against me.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

She shook her head slightly. "I don't think so. I might have just gotten used to you sleeping next to me."

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her to my body. Even if she is the subject of my nightmares, she is still my anchor to the real world. When I didn't have her, I became worse than I ever realized. I became overwhelmingly depressed and began to have some very unhealthy coping mechanisms.

"What woke you?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Mm." I vocalized, my coffee mug against my lips. I swallowed the drink in my mouth, then answered. "I wasn't sleeping very well. I woke up from a bad dream and couldn't fall back asleep."

I ignored the twinge that it wasn't quite true, knowing I hadn't bothered to try falling asleep again. She nudged against me, and we continued holding each other tightly.

"What were you dreaming about?" she whispered after a bit.

"... I'm not sure you'd enjoy listening to it." I muttered.

"It's okay, I can handle it..."

I sighed, pulling her closer to me. I kissed the top of her head, rubbing her shoulder under my hand. I hesitated, not wanting to admit that I still dream about hurting her.

"Let's get dressed, _bella._ " I said after a little while. "I've made you some coffee too."

She lifted her head, looking into my face. She turned her head slightly to the side, a silent question about my statement. It made me chuckle, a small smile crossing my face. I leaned down, kissing her gently on her forehead. I found I liked that form of affection best; it feels intimate to me without feeling too obligated to go farther.

"Let's watch the sunrise together, since we're both up." I sipped at my mug some more. "I'll tell you while we're watching the sun paint the sky."

She held up her hand, extending one of her smallest fingers. "Promise?"

I chuckled, releasing her shoulder, and linked our small fingers together. "I promise. I'll tell you what I've been dreaming about."

She smiled slightly, and I saw her visibly relax. Watching her feel happy and accomplished with taking care of me is always nice. Watching her care, watching her love physically take over her and ensure I'm safe...

I can't deny it makes me yearn for her.

Sometimes, when I think I couldn't care about her any more than I do, I realize I feel more love for her than I ever did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the things Stefano talks about in this chapter are just things I headcanon about him. The idea came from the whole "no known living relatives" comment on the documents found in Sebastian's room. If his family were refugees, I feel it would make sense if they were completely gone because the trail of his family would likely end if his immediate family had passed away. I don't really headcanon him as caring about Emily Lewis in a romantic/sexual way, but more of a platonic attachment to her. If she was all that was left of his old life, he'd likely try to hold onto her as much as he could. I have an idea for a backstory for him, but it's mostly just musing about an ideal lifestyle.


	36. Epilogue Ch3: Pure Promises

Rose pondered as she looked into her mug. She sipped at her coffee carefully, staying silent a little longer.

"Despite that, you haven't been feeling violent? At all?"

"Perhaps when Giuseppe was born, I was certainly violent towards that detective." I sighed, setting my mug on the small table I had placed outside. "But other than that, no."

"I don't think you should joke about that. If he goes back to the police and decides to convince them to come after you..."

I reached over to her, grasping the hand that wasn't carrying her mug to her lips. "They will not. I will ensure it. I would die a thousand times to protect you two."

"Even so..." She hesitated, sighing after a moment. "Maybe you should see someone about the dreams? I was wondering if it would be better to just..."

"-Come forward about what I used to do?"

"Well, no. Not exactly... Just talking aloud, but talking to someone like a therapist about your dreams... It might help you get through them?"

I hummed, listening as she kept talking. I rubbed my thumb over the skin of her hand, feeling its perfections and softness under my touch. I didn't have to look at it anymore, knowing how it looked in mine as I held it in mine. The sensation alone was enough to make me feel at home, the cool skin wrapped around mine feeling wonderful.

"You wouldn't have to tell them about your old art process, but it might help you work through what you went through in Union..."

"Maybe." I sipped my coffee some more, trying to draw out what was left in my mug. "I've thought about it before, and I did seek help before you and I met. I spoke with a few different professionals, but I never found one that understood what was in my mind. I eventually decided against going to someone to try and fix myself when there wasn't anything that needed to be fixed."

She nodded as she watched in front of her. We were right outside the front of my house, watching the sun rising over the city of Krimson. Most of our sight was blocked by tall buildings and streets before us. I was lucky to have a home on the outskirts of the city, but it made watching the sunrise difficult. It wasn't too much of a problem for me; I usually find myself awake at all hours of the night, so I miss most sunrises.

Rose is the same, she's usually awake late into the night. Our sleep cycles had been completely ruined when we awoke. It had taken us at least a month to start sleeping at the same time again, at the very least not in sporadic bursts and fitfully waking at all hours.

I think we were awake for about 24 hours when we first arrived at my house. It was almost hell, now having a child with nothing prepared for him, a load of mental trauma and exhaustion, and the belief that everyone thought we were either dead or missing. It almost enraged me that no one seemed to notice we had been abducted, or seemed to care. She explained how her boss had asked about me, but that's all she heard about. When she explained how much work she had gone to to try and find me... If it was possible, I fell in love with her more.

We spent our first day home relaxing and caring for Giuseppe. We didn't have the mental energy to do much more, staying in my house and discussing how we would approach life together. We discussed how we had escalated our relationship. We talked about how we would stay together, or at least try. She said we seemed to have at least enough energy, but she wanted to respect that we were both adults with our own needs...

As if I could leave her now.

I smiled, reaching over my torso to set down my mug. Rose looked over at me as it clinked against the small folding table.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, turning her head at an angle.

I chuckled, turning my head to her. "Thinking about our life. I'm thinking about how we seem drawn to each other, even when we've been separated, we find a way back to each other..."

She giggled quietly. "It might not be fate, but it certainly feels like a fairy tale."

My smile stretched a little to the side, and felt warmth in my chest. I squeezed her hand slightly, feeling her return the gesture. A new image began to flourish in my mind, and I closed my eye to let it take shape in my mind.

"Mm, my muse, I have a new image. Would you mind, terribly, posing for me so I can capture its beauty?"

She paused. "You'll have to tell me what it looks like, first."

I laughed quietly. "It's not as... risque as your last session."

She leaned away, hiding her face in her free hand. Her reaction always makes me laugh. I had convinced her to do a revealing photo shoot for me. It was mostly to help her see the beauty of her body, to see herself the way I do. It devolved quickly into passionate sex, unfortunately. I had gotten halfway through a roll of film and found myself too excited to bother asking her to do more. I found myself undressing and helping her do so too, then undressing her and taking her physically. The way she let go, arched her back, and begged for more from me made it impossible to let go.

Each time I've brought it up, she always stews in embarrassment from remembering it. It's one of my favorite things to tease her about, showing her how much I care for her, and how much I love watching her emotions. The way she hides her face, the way the blood rushes to her face, the way she tries to assure me she actually loves the way I care for her...

The baby monitor started up, a sound of crying beginning to sound out. We both jumped and looked at it, seeing it blinking red at us, saying it was detecting a loud noise.

"Whose turn is it?" Rose asked.

"I took care of him last night. Do you want me to go comfort him?"

"No, no... I'll go quiet him. He's probably mostly hungry."

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. "I'll take care of him this afternoon, then."

"Do you want to try and teach him to walk some more?" Rose stood up, picking up our coffee mugs to take inside with her.

"Yes, why don't we? I've been wanting to capture you two as he learns."

She laughed. "I can take pictures of you taking care of him, too."

"It's settled, then."

I smiled some more, listening to her entering the house. I listened to the monitor, still sitting on the table, watching as the colors continued to shift in the sky.

 _"Hey, sweetheart..."_ I heard come through the receiver. _"Hey, it's alright... Mommy's here..."_

I chuckled quietly. She always forgets to take the monitor with her, or turning it off when one of us is with him. I get to listen to her caring for him, and I wonder if she does the same when it's my turn to take care of our son.

I listened as she spoke to him sweetly, her voice quiet and gentle. Giuseppe quieted after a little bit, no longer crying aloud for someone to come to him. After a little while, I could hear her moving around the room, singing quietly under her breath. I couldn't stop smiling, listening to her comforting him while I watched the sunrise.

Some time later, I heard them quiet down. Her singing stopped, but I heard her cooing and talking to him. I really love the both of them, and I never thought that would be possible.

I lay my head back against the wall my chair was situated up to. I felt my restless sleep begin to get to me, trying to ignore the fatigue that overwhelmed my body.

I wonder if I can convince her to come back to bed with me once she gets Giuseppe to settle down. I preferred falling asleep with her comfortably in my arms, knowing she's safe with me...

I jumped with a start, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. I frowned, annoyed that anyone would be calling so early in the morning. I slid it out of my pants' pocket, flipping it over to have the screen face me.

I read the number on the caller ID, wracking my tired brain to figure out where I had seen it before.

Slowly, a smile crept across my face. I chuckled as I typed in my password to unlock it, then slid the circle to answer it.

"Well, hello." I said quietly, keeping an eye on the front door. "I didn't expect you to call me so early in the morning."

-

_-Rose's P.O.V.-  
_

I lay Giuseppe in his crib, watching as he kicked slightly. He hiccuped a little, cooing to get my attention. I smiled at him, reaching down and letting him grasp onto my finger.

"Do you want your daddy to come and talk to you?" I said quietly.

He kicked his feet, then turned over a little. He sat up and found his way to the edge of the crib. He pulled himself up carefully, still new to standing on his own two feet. He bounced a little, doing the little dance he does when excited. I giggled, listening to him make his little sounds and vocalizing quietly, excitedly bouncing with his knees.

He was still too young to really know many words. His first had been "dada" a few weeks ago when Stefano and I had been talking to him. We were reading him a story one night, and tried to crawl to his father's lap, ever so quietly saying "dada" over and over. We were both so stunned that we had to live in the moment and praise Giuseppe for showing what he learned.

It makes me so happy how dedicated Stefano seems to be in taking care of his son. His energy in being involved in both of our lives hasn't wavered since we both woke up. He's been working to be a better person, and it's been a relief that it seems he's been trying to be transparent about what he feels. He vocalizes his concerns, and tries to speak his mind to me. I'm happy that he's working to make sure there aren't any secrets between us.

"I'll go get your daddy to see how good you've been." I giggled, patting his head.

"Dada!" he said excitedly, grinning with his partially toothy and wide smile. "Mama, dada!"

"I'll go get him for you, sweetie. We'll be back soon."

He sat down, clapping his hands. We had been trying to get him to use non-verbal cues to tell us how he feels. He's learned some small ones, mostly sign language to get his thoughts across. He's learned "yes," "no," "thank you," and a few others. He learned to clap on his own when he's excited, though, which enamored the both of us.

I smiled, leaning over the barrier and brushing his soft and short hair over his head. I giggled and turned back around to exit the room. I walked through the open kitchen, to the front door.

I clicked open the door quietly, trying to make sure I didn't scare my spouse. I had learn early in our relationship loud noises and fast movements make him paranoid and jumpy. I didn't ask him at first, having known plenty of people in my life that went through trauma that did this to them, even having gone through some traumatic disorders myself. It makes sense now, since he's carefully opened up about what he went through.

He's shown me what's under his bangs. He explained the day he lost his eye, keeping a hold of me while he talked, making sure he didn't relive too much all at once.

"It makes me violent, sometimes." He had said. "I've come back from a blackout a few times, having destroyed some things when something triggered my memory."

Then he turned to me, a very serious tone in his voice.

"If you ever, ever see me like that, take Giuseppe and run away from me. Don't hesitate to defend yourself against me. If you ever, ever feel threatened, get away as fast and far as you possibly can."

I closed the front door behind me, hearing him talking to someone, a few feet in front of the threshold. He sounded somewhat ecstatic, and I saw he was talking on the phone.

Stefano was pacing slightly as he spoke to the person on the other end. He always did so when there wasn't a person actually in front of him, it seemed to be his way of thinking through what he was going to say. He had a hand placed on his hip, a low tone in his voice.

"Well, finally." He said, sounding quiet, like he didn't want to be heard. "It'll be a date then. You'll have to recommend me some places."

He paused, and I waited for him to notice me, watching him turn on his heel, something he does while thinking.

"Ah, of course. Let me know when you are available. You do remember to be discreet, yes? I'll make my way over..."

He stopped, a wide smile on his face.

"Well, I do have to work with your schedule. I haven't done this before, though I'm sure you hear that plenty." He laughed at himself. "Of course. Let me know when you are ready... I'm quite grateful, you're very kind to be this flexible."

He paused, turning again. I swallowed as his eye looked over to me, finally noticing that I was standing behind him. I was trying to swallow the lump in my throat, and the indecipherable dread in my stomach.

"Ah, excuse me, I'm afraid I have to go." he chuckled again, raising a finger to me. "No, I'm afraid... Well, no, I will discuss that later... Yes, well, have a good day..."

Stefano sighed, putting his phone down and tapping it. A smile crossed his face as he looked at me. I swallowed again as he approached me.

"Client?" I asked, trying to sound like I hadn't heard him talking too much.

A blank look crossed his face, like a child that got caught doing something they shouldn't. After a moment, he smiled slightly, approaching me and avoiding my gaze. He took two steps towards me, still holding his phone.

"Ah, no..." he said quietly, hesitating as he spoke. "Not quite..."

"Spam call then?"

"No." he laughed quietly. "But close."

I frowned, not liking that he was avoiding the question.

"How is Giuseppe? Is he alright?"

"Well, yes. He wanted his daddy, he was wanting you to come cuddle him."

He chuckled again. He slid his phone into his pocket, and reached me. I leaned into him, trying to rationalize why he was avoiding my attempts to ask about the caller. He hugged me, pressing his lips to the top of my head. I hoped it wasn't what I was thinking, trying to push down that impulse.

"I love you, Stefano."

"I know, my dear love." He hugged me tighter. "I love you more than I know what to do with."

"Please don't forget it."

"I never will."

"Thank you."

He let go, then walked passed me. I turned and watched him enter the house. After a moment, I followed him, trying to quell the dread and fear brewing in me.

"... Do you want to do a photo shoot later, sweetheart?" I said as he entered his studio.

"Soon, my dear." He laughed quietly. "Let's have some time together, as a family."

"Okay... Promise me it'll be spectacular?"

I watched him lift our son out of his crib, looking at me as he did so. "Of course! When have I not delivered on my promises, my love?"

I tried a half-hearted smile, going to his side. Giuseppe moved his arms excitedly, reaching for his daddy. Stefano smiled warmly at him, holding him to his chest. After a moment, he turned to me and held out his hand. I took it hesitantly, and he pulled me close.

He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine. I felt myself melt into him, his arm wrapping around my back. He held me to him, freezing our movements, and I felt Giuseppe patting my shoulder after a moment, trying to hug both of us as well.

"Nothing will separate us, _bella._ " he chuckled, holding both of us in his arms. "I will keep both of you with me forever."

I nodded into his chest, cuddling both of them to me. "I love you both. So, so much."


	37. Epilogue Ch4: Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is uncertain of Stefano's loyalties, and isn't sure if she should believe what he says anymore.

"Am I enough for you, Stefano?"

I heard him turn over in bed. "Excuse me, love?"

I swallowed slightly, trying to scoot closer to him despite the burn in my stomach. "I was just... I want to make sure I'm..."

His arms slid around my shoulders and pulled me closer. His face dug into my hair, gentle breathing passing through the strands.

"Why wouldn't you be enough for me?"

I shuddered. I didn't really like feeling so much concentration on me. That hadn't changed, I guess. Being on the spot, despite the fact I had initiated the conversation, made me feel too aware of myself.

"I was just, I don't know... I'm worried sometimes that our relationship went too fast. I'm... A little worried that some day you'll get bored of me."

Stefano yawned into my head, making me yawn too, then he spoke again. "Why would you make me bored? You try to be open about your thoughts, about how you feel..." He shifted his weight slightly, yawning again. "'Scuze me, I might not be able to finish this conversation until tomorrow... You managed to catch me at some of my tiredest..."

I giggled quietly, feeling him rub my shoulder with one of his hands.

"What brought this on, my love?"

I pressed my head against him more, feeling him pull my waist closer to him. I could still feel his bare skin, completely unclothed under the sheets. The sweat still shifting down his torso as my chest pressed into his.

"I... Don't know... I'm just worried I..."

I swallowed again, trying to ignore my fears.

"Worried you can't satisfy my needs?" a low rumble of laughter passed through his chest, and a tone of sarcasm entered his tired voice. "My dear, I am surprised you could think such a thing."

I nodded slightly. "I guess I'm just anxious."

"Perhaps. I'm afraid we'll have to pick this up tomorrow... I'm afraid I may be too drained to continue this conversation..."

I just held him tightly, unwilling to let go. Maybe I've just been overthinking this. He's been absent every once in a while, going around town to try and show his work in galleries. I've been doing my best to help him when I can, still going to school and working. We've been making ends meet since we moved in together, but we haven't really been able to set some time for ourselves.

Sometimes I'm worried he's lost interest in me. It's such an unhealthy mindset to go there so quickly, but sometimes I'm scared he's looking for someone else.

While he seems committed to me, committed to raising our son, sometimes I'm scared we've become absent in each others lives in the past few months. I've been focusing on my finals and my essays for this semester, so I've been trying to set time aside for my family.

I keep trying to tell myself I can give them more, but I'm getting close to my final semester. I've been making up and working hard for the semester I missed and the classes I failed when I went missing. I discussed it with my college, and I was able to get my record cleared, but I'm still so wary about my grades since I went back to college.

Now that the college semester has passed, I'll do my best to be here for both of them. I don't have work during the semester, only having worked on the campus. I can always go around and look for a job if we really need it, but I think we've been okay so far.

Stefano's head dipped into the pillow we were sharing. He had fallen asleep. I felt my heart flutter and I smiled. He hadn't been sleeping very well since we got home, and I think he had issues sleeping before I entered his life too. It always made me happy when he was able to let himself rest.

I can't thank him enough for staying with our son four out of the five days of the week. And for driving me to and from the campus when the semester was going. I'm only able to stay home Fridays and the weekends while school is in session. I try my best to take care of him at all times when I'm home. He's been working while home too, trying to build a new portfolio to keep suspicions off of him. He actually has shown me how he worked from home before, having set up a photography studio in his own home and made a name for himself.

It had actually surprised me that people had gone out of their way to ask him to show at their galleries. He had always talked about how his work was never well received and understood, but he had been solicited several times to show. He seemed annoyed while talking about it; they had wanted the press and tried to use him for their own gains. The galleries that came to him did pay him, but were just trying to get any form of press, good or bad.

I felt bad that people were so willing to throw him to the wolves for their own wants. I understood that at least. His work always entranced me, and even when I was put off from it while in Union, I couldn't deny I still find it beautiful. I think just knowing they really were dead bodies displayed right in front of me had made me a little nervous.

I snuggled into my boyfriend, trying to get comfortable as I listened to him breathing deeply. I'll try and quell my fears in the morning. He's right that we should just talk it over. I guess I was just overthinking. The phone call he had taken today is what sparked my anxiety, my doubt in our relationship. He's done his best to try and keep me by his side over the past months, even seducing me tonight to turn attention back to just the two of us.

Don't get me wrong, we fight like any couple. We do our best to sort things out and come to an agreement, but we do still have our disagreements.

The way he had spoken to the person on the other end sounded like he didn't want to be caught. The way he had said the phrase "It's a date" made me think he was looking into finding someone else. It felt irrational as I thought about it, but it wasn't the most illogical thought. At least I think so.

I hate second guessing myself. It almost always leads to heartbreak. Either for myself or the person I care about.

To be fair, he hasn't acted or done anything that should raise my suspicion. Aside from that phone call, and his dodging of my questions when I asked about it, he hasn't done anything that should raise my doubts. Maybe it's me who's in the wrong, but I try not to give myself that grievance.

I closed my eyes, listening to his breath and feeling his pulse under my lips, pressing them against his neck. The feeling he had been fictional this entire time had left me, no longer the sensation that he was a perfect storybook character.

To be honest, that made me feel better. It had stressed me out that he didn't feel real to me, but now that he felt like a person under my fingertips... it made me feel so much better. Especially after I had seen him using supernatural powers to move around, freezing time and becoming more disturbed as he went along.

Now he's just Stefano Valentini. My boyfriend, and the father of my child. I'm glad he decided to stay after all. After he wanted to leave, after he wanted to disappear from our lives because he thought he would mess it all up... I'm so glad I convinced him to be part of our child's life.

-

"Well, it shouldn't be so difficult!"

Stefano's raised voice floated back into the room I was sitting in. He had gone into his studio to take a phone call and left the door mostly open. Giuseppe and I were sitting in the living room, playing with some of his toys.

"What do you mean you've changed your mind about it? I've already-- Look, no... I'm not going to sit here and listen to your abuse over the phone. I'm not the type of person who takes this kind of talk lightly."

He paused as I tried to distract Giuseppe with one of his rattling toys. He excitedly crawled towards me and got into my lap.

"I don't care if you're behind schedule. I contacted you for a service, I found all the requirements... No, I came in, and you should have it all on file. Yes I'm sure. I already... Alright, how about this; I can very easily come over and work this out easier with you. It would be better than blindly talking over the phone."

Giuseppe looked up at me, showing me his rattler. I smiled and quietly praised him.

"It has already been several months, I'm not certain why you keep pushing back--... well, no, you haven't exactly been amicable in your business."

Giuseppe crawled from my lap, reaching for his blanket. It was almost time for his nap, and he had learned that after some time. He still didn't like it, but he had learned that about midday, after his play time, he would be put in his crib to lay down for a nap.

"Look, I already said I don't care how long it'll be. I said... Well, no, I already told you... Would you let me speak?! I'm trying to answer you, but you are not letting me get a single word in!"

I sighed, watching Giuseppe look at me with his sad face. He didn't like his dad being away from him for too long, especially before he was about to lay down.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, he'll be done soon." I said softly, patting his head as he cuddled in my lap.

Giuseppe crawled back to me, looking for comfort. I hoped Stefano finished his conversation before his son started crying. Maybe some extra play time would be best, to make sure there wouldn't be any problems getting him to quietly sleep.

"I'm not in a position to discuss all the details right now, alright? I'm a little... Well, currently, I'm around the person I'm trying not to let know what we're doing. I'll be over later to sort this out."

I tried to swallow the dread that had taken residence in my gut again. I bit my tongue, trying to rationalize what he was saying. I couldn't hide that doubt in the back of my mind again.

"Look, we sort out schedules and meeting up... Do you think I'm happy about this? I asked you not to call me during this time, do you think I will have a fun time explaining this? Do you think I'm not asking you to follow some rules explicitly for the entertainment, I'm trying not to let my girlfriend let on to what we're doing, alright?!"

I swallowed, trying not to think about it.

"Alright, well give me a few minutes. I'll be over to sort this out presently. Let me have some time to sort out a proper excuse, okay? You have already ruined my day, but I'll forgive you if you can get your shit together."

I rubbed at my eyes, holding my son close to me.

"Alright. Well, I'll be over shortly. You better be ready for me, and having everything sorted and ready for me to make it right. Understand?"

I sighed. I wondered if I was overreacting. I wouldn't be able to get him to talk about it unless I went through his things. I'm scared that he's about to leave me, or that he's about to try and find a way out of our relationship.

I couldn't ignore my thoughts. I couldn't ignore the thoughts in my head. I was scared he had found someone else to satisfy him. I was scared he was looking to have a second partner on the side, and that he wasn't going to really care about my feelings anymore.

I was so scared he was cheating on me. If he had been doing so the entire time we had been living together, and this other relationship had just gone sour.

I questioned everything he had said. Every promise he had sworn up and down, every statement and explanation.

"So sorry, my love." Stefano announced his presence while walking into the room. "Something rather pressing has come up, and I'm afraid I'll have to leave."

"Stay for Giuseppe, please." I muttered.

" _Bella_...?" he said as he came closer, then sat down next to me. "What was it you said?"

I shook my head. "Giuseppe was getting restless while you were talking, could you help me calm him?"

"Of course. I'll take care of you two before I go."

I looked over at him, seeing he was now wearing his coat and a pair of gloves. I sighed quietly, helping our son climb into his lap. I watched him as he played with our son, saying sweet things and smiling to him.

I wondered if he had been lying between his teeth this entire time. Was he really...? No, he can't have, I don't think anyone could keep up such an elaborate lie for a long time.

Then was it new? Or was he seeing someone else at all?

"Excuse me..." I mumbled, and stood up.

I sped myself out of the room before I broke down. I tried to tell myself it was nothing, I was overreacting. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. I shouldn't think of him like this, but I was so scared.

He's been leaving suddenly every few days now. Making excuses since that first phone call I walked in on. Running out of the house every time he got into a heated discussion with the person. Talking angrily, then leaving and staying away from home for hours at a time.

I ducked into the bathroom, trying not to lose myself. I shut the door and tried not to cry. I stopped in front of the mirror.

Was I this foolish? I don't know if I'm an idiot for doubting him, or an idiot for letting him trick me like this. I'm such an emotional wreck either way, and a complete fool for feeling this torn up about it.

I hunched over and splashed water on my face. I need to calm down. I need to stop this.

"Rose?" the door opened as Stefano spoke softly. "What is wrong?"

I sniffed, backing away from him and avoiding his eye. "If you're just going to try and go behind my back, just tell me, please."

"What do you mean, Rose?"

I shook my head, still not looking at him. "If you've become bored with me, or if you want to find comfort from someone else, don't hide it. That's all I'm asking."

"Rose..." He started walking towards me.

"No, I won't--"

"Don't, please, Rose, let me explain."

I looked up at him, trying to look angry and forceful. "If you don't want to be part of my life, then fine, but don't lead me on a string of lies and false promises, okay?!"

He didn't say anything, his face turning stoic and neutral. It was the look that showed he was trying to internalize something, trying not to let something hurt him.

"If you don't want to be with me, at least stay part of Giuseppe's life. He loves you so much."

"And what makes you think I don't love you?" His voice was tight, and I closed my eyes. He was hurting, I could almost hear it as he reached for me.

"You're not very good at keeping your phone calls a secret. Talking to someone about dating, about meeting up... You've been leaving so suddenly, you keep staying away."

He grabbed my chin and lifted it to look at him. "Rose, what have I told you? My heart belongs to you, and you alone."

"I know, but--"

"No, no but. There isn't anything going on."

"Then what are you doing?" I opened my eyes, looking into his. "You keep... Lying, pushing me away..."

He was frowning, and his face gave away that he had some indecipherable emotion running through him. He didn't answer me, just standing still, trying to either ignore or find the solution to what I had said. He seemed cross again, but somehow not angry like while he was on his call.

He leaned down. He pressed his lips against mine, pushing into me.

"You're right, of course." He sighed when he pulled away. His eye lowered, avoiding my gaze. "But not about me seeing someone. I'm not fond of people, so going out of my way to find someone else, someone that is somehow _better_ than you, if they somehow _exist_... It's a ludicrous thought to me."

He lifted his hand as I tried to swallow a rude remark back at him. His fingers threaded through my hair, gently petting it, and I tried to ignore the flutters in my stomach.

"My love, I'm so sorry, that is exactly the thought process I've been trying to avoid instilling in you. I've been trying to solve that problem and stop that thought before it found its way into you."

He looked away, thinking to himself.

"I cannot tell you what I've been doing. Not yet at least."

"Why not, you--..."

He turned back to me. "Just, please trust me, Rose."

"We promised each other. We swore we wouldn't keep secrets."

"I--" He exhaled slowly. "I know. But... I swear, upon all of me, on my life, on your heart, on Giuseppe's life... You just have to trust me. I will reveal it to you soon."

I shook my head. "Are you in trouble with someone?"

"No, it's not that, my dear." His eye closed. "The most I can say is I'm trying to work with someone that doesn't deserve my patience as much as I am giving them."

I leaned my head into his shoulder. I let my tears flow, feeling him hold me close and pulling me close.

"It will be worth it, my love, to wait for me. It will be worth it if you trust me. I know..." he hesitated. "I know, after all we been through, that is such a large request. But I am trying my best..."

"Just promise me you'll tell me. Please."

"Oh, trust me, there's no way I can't tell you."

He leaned down, and I felt his lips press into my head. I pressed myself into him, trying to ignore the pain in my chest.

"I have to go and meet the person I'm working with. I will make it up to you. I promise."

He pulled my right arm off of his chest. His left pinky finger locked around mine, something he had discussed with me before that he meant more strongly because they were our dominant hands. I had learned how seriously he took it when he swore to me.

"My love, my heart only beats for you. I will come home with a bottle of wine, and we can talk it over, okay? I promise. I will make it up to you, the time I've been missing. I will make it up to you, and I will make it up to Giuseppe. Okay?"

I nodded, gripping his finger tighter. "If you don't, I'm not going to hesitate leaving you."

He paused. Then he leaned closer and held me tighter. "I believe you. I promise, with all of my heart, that I will make it up to you. I'm so sorry that you have been feeling this way. I'm sorry I'm not better at hiding what I've been doing. But I promise that I'll take care of you both for as long as I am able to."

I let go of his finger and wrapped my arms around his torso. I kissed his neck, then felt him draw me up to look at him. He pressed his lips into mine, and held me close to his figure for a few seconds.

"I love you, Rose." He whispered against my mouth. "I'll be back soon."

I nodded, feeling him release me. Then he turned and left the bathroom, and I watched him go.

I stood there, trying not to lose myself again.


	38. Epilogue Ch5: Dinner and a Glass of Wine

I stirred my cup of tea. I sighed to myself, thinking. I sipped the tea left over on the spoon, putting it in the sink.

I turned to walk back into the studio. I still have so much to do, but I think I'm running out of time.

The opening of the door caught my ear. I walked out of the kitchen and into the studio. I avoided looking towards him, rehearsing again what I was going to say.

The sun had gone down, and it had been at least five hours since Stefano had left. I had thought long and hard about what he said, what had been happening. I wondered if he would notice the note I had written for him, sitting on the island in the kitchen. I closed my eyes, and sipped the tea I had prepared.

I sat down on his couch, looking over the things I had prepared.

"Rose?" I heard him call from the other room.

I didn't answer.

"Rose? What's this?"

I looked over slightly, seeing him walk into the room in my peripheral vision, holding the letter I had written. I turned back to folding my clothes and setting them in boxes.

"Rose...?"

"I'm..." I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from crying again. "I'm not that dense, Stefano. I don't want to be in a relationship filled with lies and secrets and heartbreak..."

"My dear..."

"No, don't 'my dear' me. You've been doing so good, you've been working to spend time with me and Giuseppe. I know I haven't been able to cater to your needs all the time, but I'm not going to let you walk over me while you see someone else."

I took a breath as he began to protest. "Will you allow me to explain?"

"Not if you're just going to keep telling me lies. Not if you're going to keep making up excuses, not if you're going to try and string me along on--"

"Rose, stop it. Come on, let's--" He reached for the box of things I had been working on.

I stood up, trying to keep him from grabbing it. "No! I'm not going to let you control me!"

"I don't want to control you, Rose, please don't do this now."

"What do you mean?! You don't seem interested in spending time with me, with your son anymore! I can understand you not caring about me anymore, but he's your son! You can't just leave him like this, not after what we've been through! He loves you, you can't make him go through that!"

"I'm not letting you leave without understanding what's--"

"I don't need to understand, Stefano! I..." I felt hot tears slip down my face. "Just tell me, please. I'm... I'll leave if you don't want me anymore... I'm going to give you time to think about it, but I just want to know why you'd do this. I thought that's what you said you would do when we came home, I thought you promised you wouldn't hide anything..."

"And I'm not, I wanted to talk to you about it, I really did..."

"Then why?!" I said, trying without success to regain my composure, feeling myself sobbing and hyperventilating as I continued. "Why do you keep leaving at all hours of the day, or all hours of the night?! Why are you dropping everything to go see someone else?! Why--"

He dropped the box, his eye shining electric and furious. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me slightly, holding me in place, a desperate look on his face.

"Stop it." His tone of voice startled me, making me silent. "I mean it."

I froze, everything I had wanted to say, everything I had planned to counter what he might say, dying in my throat as I stared at him. He took a deep breath, and watched me, his eye flickering between mine to read my emotions.

"I keep my promises, and I never wanted to hurt you."

He let go of my right shoulder, brushing some hair from my face. His thumb wiped away my tears under one eye, continually staring at me.

"Not since I learned you were pregnant with Giuseppe, not since I realized I love you..." His scattered sigh ran across my face as he closed his eye and tried to compose himself. "I know I promised no lies, no secrets... And that I have unfortunately broken, or delayed enforcing..."

He turned away, letting go of me, and walking towards Giuseppe's crib. He staggered as he walked, the way he only did when he showed how exhausted he really is. I swallowed, trying to force myself to listen.

"I know you've been so tired of how I've been acting, and I noticed that you've become suspicious of how I've been acting..."

He hesitated, his hands slipping into his pockets. He lowered his head, and turned to me slightly.

"Don't." He whispered. "Don't leave me... I should have seen this coming, and I should have told the truth... But I..."

"What... Why have you been hiding, then?"

"Rose... Come with me, I promised I would explain everything, and I will."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Because I... Must do something first."

I hesitated, but followed him. The room was dimmed, and I could barely see anything.

"I'm afraid I had more planned, but for now I'll have to make do..."

The sound of a match striking cardboard sounded off, and a small, dim light appeared where Stefano's voice was coming from. I looked over at him as he moved to the island in the kitchen. He guided the flame to something on the island counter. I watched as the flame met a tall, white candle cradled in a single candlestick. The flame grew taller as the wick caught light, and I watched as he lit three more candles that all looked identical on the island.

He picked up a wine bottle and uncorked it, picking up one of two clear wine glasses. A dark red wine flowed out of the bottle smoothly into the glass. When it was halfway, he set it down and poured the same amount in the second glass.

He turned to me, raising his hand to me. "It's been too long since we've had a good, long time to ourselves..."

I hesitated. Then I walked towards him, fitting my hand into his. He guided me to sit down next to him on one of the seats. He set a wine glass in front of me, and carefully took a sip from his.

Well, more like he took a large gulp. I watched him, almost unwilling to take a drink from mine. He seemed nervous, but I couldn't quite fathom why.

"You were right, Rose. I've been treating you very poorly. I've been neglecting you, and I've been neglecting our child, and there is never any reason for it."

I watched him tip back the glass into his mouth a second time, leaving barely a sip at the bottom of it.

"I know you've been struggling, and you've been questioning." He sighed, setting down the glass rather harshly. "And you deserve to know the truth."

He poured himself more wine into his glass. He sipped at it for a moment.

"And I don't want to leave you. I haven't been seeing someone else, and I haven't lost interest..." He sighed. "Dammit, I had tried to plan for everything. Coming home to you trying to leave wasn't something I thought would happen."

He shook his head, bangs dancing in front of his face.

"I probably shouldn't be doing it like this, I'm sure I'll regret it, but dammit..."

He lifted his right hand, grabbing my left. I looked down, seeing his hand was shaking slightly, feeling its tremble pulse through my own hand. I wondered why he seemed so tense, I've never seen him act this way before.

"Rose, my love, you mean the world to me." He whispered. "I've been trying to plan everything perfectly. You... You deserve pure perfection..."

I nodded slightly, holding onto his hand. His eye glance over my left hand as he rubbed his thumb across it.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time. Obviously I couldn't account for everything. I was planning on coming home earlier, but he... Took too much of my time, and I couldn't do anything else. I had made plans to come home while you were caring for Giuseppe, and making you a traditional Italian dinner..."

He sighed, then laughed quietly.

"I don't believe I've had anything to eat yet, so we can rectify that afterwards... But... I wanted to make tonight perfect... I had to act on my plan sooner, since you seemed determined to leave, but... Promise me you'll listen to me first, you'll listen to me before you make any permanent decisions."

"I... I will."

"I... Well..." He tried to laugh at himself. "I suppose this would go wrong, no matter what I did. You see..."

He stood up, and I initially followed him.

"No, sit." he implored me. "I need you to sit."

I sat still as he held his hands on my shoulders. "Stefano, are you... Okay...?"

A smile crossed his face. "To be perfectly honest, I haven't felt like this before. I feel... I'm not sure, my heart is going crazy, and I could swear I'm sweating a whole shower, and I'm sure I'm sounding like more of a mess than I ever have..."

I tried to smile, unsure how to react. He slid his hands from my shoulders, fitting them over my hands and turned my palms upwards.

"You see, Rose... I've been thinking about our relationship all this time, since we met, all the way until now. I'm sure I'll be thinking about it until the world really ends, until I pass away, because there's no way to get you out of my mind..."

I watched him slide to the floor, balancing on a single knee.

"It's such a bad time to ask, given how angry you were with me, but I promised I would tell you, so..." He smiled at me, trying to be as still as possible. "Would you please marry me, Rose?"

One of his hands slipped from mine, slipping into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small, dark square and fit it into my hand.

"I wanted to make sure this was perfect. That's where I've been this whole time, all the time I've spent away... I've been trying to make sure it's the perfect size, the perfect shape... I wanted everything to be just right for you."

He flipped it over in my hand and opened it. He let go and let me take it in.

A small golden ring stared back at me. Two roses adorned the top of it, intricate and inlaid with what looked like red gemstones. I gasped as I looked at it closer.

"The jeweler I first went to kept scrapping it and needing to revise it, and I eventually had to go to someone else. I wanted such a detailed and beautiful design, I needed to find someone who would make it for me..."

I reached for it, hesitating. "This... This is what you've been doing...?"

"Yes... I've been... I've been trying my hardest to hide it, I wanted to make it the perfect night for the both of us, not to try and force you to say yes, but so you could look back on that night over and over and fall in love with me forever..."

I pulled on the ring, watching it pop out of the box in my hand. I looked it over, seeing its intricate design. The red roses had lines coming from them, the ring itself looking like it was the stems entwined and growing together. It had small bumps underneath the petals on top of the ring, looking exactly like thorns, and small red gems running down the sides to the halfway point. I looked at the top of it, seeing two small diamonds in the center of the roses as the core of them.

I swallowed. "How... How long did it take you to get this made...?"

He chuckled quietly. "I started looking about three... And a half months ago. The last one I went to wasn't a well-known jeweler, but he was known for his intricate designs and getting them all done... But he takes such a long time to ensure it's perfect..."

I glanced up at him. He had a soft smile on his face, watching me. I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Stefano!" I cried as I pressed my face into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry for doubting you!"

His arms wrapped around me, holding my shoulders tightly. "I know, it's okay..."

"I-I love you...!" I gasped out, beginning to cry again. This time tears of joy were leaking down my face, my heart feeling like it was about to burst.

"I love you, too... I'm so sorry I made you doubt our love... I'm sorry, too, that I wasn't forthcoming with you. I should have been upfront with you, I should have explained I was trying to get you a gift, a surprise..."

I shook my head. "Don't apologize, I..."

"Shh... Don't you dare apologize either... We both have our flaws and we both have our problems... But..."

He withdrew from his tight hug on me. His eye traced up my face, lingering on my lips then slowly meeting my eyes.

"If you'd allow me... I'd like to work through them with you... I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you..."

I leaned my head into him.

"I..." I breathed a shaky breath, closing my eyes. "I... I love you, Stefano... I..."

I felt him lean forward, pressing his lips on my forehead. "I love you, too, Rose..."

"I... I will. I want to marry you..."

I looked up at him, seeing his eye wide and staring at me. "Really?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll marry you."

"Thank you." He leaned to me and kissed me. "Thank you."

"Of course. I love you, Stefano. We've known each other for at least a year."

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to dedicate forever, though." He chuckled.

I looked down, making him follow my gaze. I looked at the ring, flipping it over in my hands.

"Can this be my wedding band...?"

He laughed rather loudly. "That's what I had in mind... I wanted to make something so perfect and special for you... I'm planning on getting an identical one for myself..."

He pulled it from my fingers, and grasped onto my left hand. It slid cleanly onto my ring finger, fitting snug, not too tight or too loose.

"Do you remember the photo shoot I had you do a few months ago? I gave you several pieces of jewelry to try on to accent your photograph... That's how I found the right size for you. Clever, yes?"

I giggled, looking at it on my hand. "Very clever."

He lifted my face in his hand. "You're so lovely, _bella._ You are the most wonderful piece of art I'll have my name on."

I laughed, leaning into him. The cheesiness still worked on me, and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Don't leave me, either." I muttered into his shoulder. "Thank you for telling me."

"Like I said, there's no way I wouldn't be able to." He swayed slightly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need some food before I completely come under the effects of my drink."

I laughed quietly and helped him to his feet.

"Well, it may have not gone to how you planned it, but I still think tonight's perfect."

"Give it a few anniversaries." he laughed quietly. "I'm sure we'll be trying to out do it every year."

I kissed him on the cheek, guiding him to his chair again. I went to get something from the fridge to make something for us to eat.


End file.
